


Behind the Sun

by JeanSchramme



Series: Solar Flares [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Codex Entries, During Canon, Eclipse mercenaries, F/M, Gen, Mercenaries, Profanity, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSchramme/pseuds/JeanSchramme
Summary: Riding high from victory on Anhur, newly-promoted Captain Andre Protin is looking forward to a tour of duty on Illium. But when one of Eclipse's wealthiest clients is the victim of a bombing, he finds himself thrust into the shadowy world of counter-terrorism. Now swept away in a torrent of intrigue among the debauchery of Illium, Andre struggles to do his duty as best he can---for while Eclipse's halo burns bright on the battlefield, some missions require going behind the sun.The sequel to Eclipse Forever, a tale of some Eclipse OCs, some (very) secondary NPCs from the games, and a neon-lit romance.
Relationships: Original Asari Character(s)/Original Male Human Character(s)
Series: Solar Flares [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688242
Comments: 25
Kudos: 20





	1. Sunset from the Dantius Towers

_ Nos Astra, Illium, 2177 _

They were called the Dantius Towers, jutting high above the bustling cityscape that was the capital of Illium. Aircars swarmed round the structures like bees round a hive, and the whole scene was bathed in the soft golden glow that was evening on the asari colony world.

One aircar in particular had split off from the orderly rows of traffic criss-crossing the sky, vectoring higher, higher, higher style for the loft heights of the towers. It had black livery, save for a single golden insignia splashed across either side: a stylized sunburst with the letter  _ E _ inset---the insignia of the private military company Eclipse.

Riding shotgun in the aircar, Captain Andre Protin looked out to marvel at the bustling city stretching beyond, a look of wonder twisting his earnest features, wind through the open window tugging at his slicked-back undercut. “I’m still not over this place, Nal’.”

The vehicle’s driver was regarding the approaching towers with a look of haughty amusement, as if she’d heard some inside joke that her human passenger had yet to be let in on. But Major Nalethia T’Resh looked over to give Andre a gentle smile and scratch on one shaven temple. “We do build our worlds with a certain panache, don’t we dearest? Is this the biggest settlement you’ve visited, then?”

Andre nodded. “I’m a colony kid, yeah. I’d thought New Thebes was a megalopolis…”

“Anhur has nothing on Illium, Andre,” said Nalethia, returning her attention to the landing pad coming up in front of them. “Now, professional face on, if you please. We wouldn’t want to embarass Lady Sederis.”

The pair were wearing what Andre had come to think of as business wear for Eclipse: a well-tailored suit in his case, a  _ very  _ striking black dress in hers, both with the same black base and gold piping. Andre had opted for the corporate logo as a simple lapel pin, Nalethia had done something similar with the high collar of her dress. Neither of them were wearing rank insignia. Those who needed to know who and what they were about, already would.

And as Nalethia had put it, full-on military regalia was so gauche in circumstances like this. The Blue Suns (or so she’d said) had designed their own dress uniforms, complete with Suns-unique service ribbons and qualification badges. It was disgustingly gaudy. Eclipse, as ever, preferred the more elegant approach.

Elegance could vary, of course. An honor guard, armed and armored, was waiting for them, a quartet of asari vanguards and one salarian---an ancient, gnarled figure, absent both horns and one arm.

As the aircar descended, Chief Operative Yehlen Pek snapped something, and the commandos all presented arms. As the aircar doors opened, Pek raised his sole hand in what Andre had early on learned to recognize as a Salarian salute.

“Hello, Chief.” Nalethia dipped her head respectfully as she and Andre approached. “Are they waiting for us?”

“Yes.” The hoary salarian’s voice still sounded like metal grating on metal, but at least he no longer looked at Andre with quite as much visible revulsion. “Lady Sederis and Nassana Dantius are in the penthouse conference room.”

Andre shook his head at the high-powered duo awaiting them. He hadn’t been on Illium long, but Nassana Dantius’ name was not one whispered without fear, even among Eclipse. And as for Jona Sederis, well. The less thought, the better. He didn’t envy Chief Pek being assigned as lead on the contract, but the salarian was both close enough to death and had dealt enough of it on his own that they were likely a bit less intimidating.

Nalethia had kept walking, knowing that Pek, Andre, and their honor guard would fall in with her. “Curiouser and curiouser. Any indicator what she wanted?”

“No.” Pek’s sallow gaze looked to Andre. “Dantius was ranting about worthless human workers though. Sure the XO should be here?”

It wasn’t a jab, not quite, not after what they’d been through together on Anhur. But Andre felt honor-bound to respond all the same. “I go where Major T’Resh goes, Chief.”

Nalethia smirked. “Quite. If they’ve a problem with staffing considerations, Chief Pek, they are more than welcome to discuss it with me.”

They were off the landing pad now, moving into well-appointed hallways. Asari decor tended more towards a minimalist approach than human, Andre had noticed: sleek, polished finishes, ancient artwork on  _ paper  _ rather than holos, plant arrangements, and weirdly, LOKI mechs in black and white livery clanking about with trays of drinks or hors d’oeuvres. It was almost entirely asari up here, with the odd volus or salarian to lend local color. Nassana Dantius was officially an emissary of the Republics, Andre knew, but she had more than a few business interests here on Illium with the rest of her family. That much was plain.

Chief Pek showed the pair into the grandest conference room of them all, one decorating with oceanic motifs and blue-and-gold filigree on the walls. Some reference to Athame, no doubt, though damned if Andre knew exactly what. And he was far more concerned about the other occupants of the room.

One, he knew far better than he wished he did. She was a sleekly-built asari with purple skin, sharp cheekbones, and subtle tattoo work ingrained into her forehead and scalp. Her cheekbones were sharp, her manner that of the apex of Thessian society, but it ran about as deep as the high-cut neckline of the dress she wore. Some people radiated menace, no matter what they were or what circumstance they were in.

Lady Jona Sederis was one of those. And judging by the look she was giving Andre, no small amount of that menace was being directed at him right now. Accepting humans into the ranks of Eclipse had been something that had been done more out of a need for cannon fodder on her part than any real appreciation or acceptance of the new species’ arrival on the galactic stage. While Sederis had never gone so far as to reprimand Nalethia for it, there had been some snark here and there about how high and how fast Andre had risen.

The other figure was also an asari, one with teal skin, a mottle scalp, and a decidedly exasperated look on her face. She didn’t even so much as acknowledge Andre, instead choosing to glare down Nalethia as if personally offended by the Major’s existence. He had never seen her before, but it was pretty clear that this had to be Nassana Dantius.

That left Chief Pek as the one figure not the subject of high-powered antipathy, but that was par for the course. For an ancient salarian missing both horns and an arm, Pek was entirely too good at avoiding attention.

Nalethia swept into the room as if making an entrance at a gala, sketching an elaborate bow to Sederis and Dantius before straightening. “Lady Sederis. Madam Dantius. How can we be of service?”

One of the LOKI mechs playing servant detached itself from where it had been charging in a corner, stepping forward to pull out a chair for Nalethia, who gracefully settled in. The machine didn’t repeat the favor for Andre and Chief Pek; they had to make do with trying to stand as ominously as possible behind their Major. Andre, never much good at being an intimidating presence, decided to play good cop and gave the two high-powered asari across the table a polite smile.

Jona Sederis and Nassana Dantius exchanged looks of the sort one gives an overly friendly puppy who has shit on the carpet, and proceeded to ignore Andre entirely.

Nassana came out of the gate swinging. “I am  _ very  _ disappointed in the performance of your mercenaries, Major. I have received reports from my head of security that my workers are considering unionization, and that there have been multiple terroristic threats made against my life and property. Why has this not been addressed?”

There was the sound of grinding teeth next to Andre, but Yehlen Pek managed to hold his tongue.

Nalethia, in turn, gave Nassana Dantius an understanding smile, calm as the Thessian tides going in and out. “I am  _ very  _ sorry to hear that you are subject to such threats, Madam Dantius. But am I to understand that there has been no actionable intelligence received? No actual attacks that have been sustained?”

Unseen next to Nassana, Jona Sederis smirked.

“That is besides the  _ point _ , those who would issue me such threats should not be in a place to make them.” Dantius waved a dismissive hand. “Nor should they remain so. And you have yet to address the matter of unions.”

“Unions in and of themselves are not a security threat, Madam Dantius.” Nalethia shrugged---and then her expression hardened. “And insider threat mitigation and labor relation management were  _ not  _ in the terms of the contract we signed.”

“Correct,” said Jona Sederis. “And insider threat management will remain the province of your own security apparatus, Nassana. But my employees are more than willing to assist in countering any  _ kinetic  _ actions that your workers may employ, such as strikes, sabotage, and so on, on top of the currently existing physical security remit.”

Andre looked from one asari to the next, still keeping quiet. Pek was an able operative to be sure, but dealing with unions and strikebreaking wasn’t really soldiering. But the gnarled old salarian’s penchant for wet work might come in handy, here, at least so far as Andre understood it.

Pek just settled for grinding his teeth even louder.

Nassana looked to Sederis, slightly mollified. “Very well. And the threats on my life and property?”

Nalethia inclined her head. “We will not be able to take action against faceless slander, Madam Dantius. However, in the event of a credible threat identified by your own security team, I can have a special-missions unit ready to be bought in to neutralize the offenders. Lady Sederis, I defer to you in just how the contract is to be amended.”

“A moment,” said Nassana, raising an imperious finger. “Just who is to be in charge of this group?”

Yehlen Pek came to life next to Andre, sallow eyes burning. “I remain the project manager; this group will answer to  _ me _ .”

“I think not. You’ve already proven unable to---”

Nalethia turned around at that, no doubt to make sure that Pek hadn’t primed an incinerate blast. But the Salarian was settling for continuing to grind his teeth hard enough to shatter them. Andre still took the slightest step to one side, just in case Pek decided to shatter something else, but the warning look Nalethia was giving the Chief seemed to be dissuading him from anything drastic. For now, at least.

“Chief Operative Pek remains one of my most trusted soldiers,” said Nalethia, returning her attention to Nassana, “but I agree this ought to be left to an officer who can dedicate the entirety of their attention to the task at hand. Captain Protin will put together the element and proceed accordingly.”

Now  _ that _ was unexpected. But Andre managed to keep his features schooled to neutral stoicism rather than emitting the yelp of surprise echoing in his brain.

Jona Sederis’ eyes narrowed, but Nassana Dantius looked confused. “I’ve not met this officer before. Tell me about them?”

Nalethia gestured to Andre, smiling beatifically. “Captain Andre Protin here served as one of my platoon leaders on Anhur, during the Civil War, and was appointed my second in command due to his valor and bravery in the field. He has substantial experience both with the Systems Alliance and Eclipse, and I am confident in his abilities to accomplish whatever mission you may require of him.”

Andre bowed his head to Nassana, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. “I assure you, Madam Dantius, you can count on me and my soldiers.”

Nassana didn’t quite have a full-on sneer, but her words all but oozed contempt as she stared down Nalethia. “A  _ human _ , Major T’Resh? Do you seek to add insult to injury?”

“Madam Dantius---”

Andre was cut off by Nalethia raising a hand, but he could feel the vein pulsing in his temple. After the Blitz, Anhur, after clawing his way up the ranks to the apex that a human could reach in Eclipse, to have a client ignore all that---

“Madam Dantius.” Nalethia’s voice was poisoned honey. “I would not even consider proposing detailing my second in command to personally supervise a task order of such import had he not proven absolutely trustworthy. I would thank you in the future to not question the capabilities of my officers, no matter  _ what _ their species.”

The other asari got to her feet, jabbing an accusatory finger across the table. “And I will not suffer to put my safety in the hands of lesser species. Jona, you can consider this contract in extreme jeopardy, pending review.”

Jona Sederis had the smile of a wolf sighting prey---but it wasn’t directed at her subordinates. “Indeed? And who will look after your assets in the meantime? The Nos Astra Police Department, corrupt and cowardly as they are? Elanus Risk Control Services, hidebound and inflexible as the turians who run them? Your own internal security staff, perhaps---but think of how much money you’d hemorrhage increasing your own internal security infrastructure rather than subcontracting out to me. You have alternatives, Nassana, but none of them seem particularly appealing to me.”

A biotic corona flared round Nassana Dantius’ hand--then faded as she turned to storm out of the room, blowing past a LOKI mech entering with a precariously-balanced plate of hors d’oeuvres.

Nalethia looked back over to Jona Sederis and took a sip of her wine. “Well now. I’ve certainly had worse negotiations.”

“Better ones, too.” Jona Sederis flared her biotics and pulled over Nassana Dantius’ untouched wineglass, before pounding it back in short order, followed by her own. “Very well. Captain Protin?”

Andre blanched at the unexpected direct address, but braced to attention. “Yes, Lady Sederis?”

“Put your task force together. On paper only, for now, but I want your battalion’s best intelligence and clandestine operations personnel ready for a possible counter-terror operation. Are you familiar with such work?”

He had to suppress a swallow, at that. Sure he’d been  _ trained  _ on such work, but that had been all--trained. No practical experience in the field. “Familiar, yes, Lady Sederis.”

Jona Sederis gave him a tolerant smile. “So either inexperienced or less than fond of the dirtier aspects. So be it, your sisters will ensure the necessary heads roll. Won’t they, Nalethia?”

“Indeed.” Nalethia was being far more circumspect with her wine consumption. “I’ll see to it Andre receives a good Operative and Vanguard Sergeant to assist him.”

“The latter, certainly.” Jona Sederis leaned forward. “ _ My _ Chief Operative, Vandew Sayn, will be ensuring that this contract is completed to my satisfaction.”

Nalethia tilted her head. “Surely you don’t need to task out one of your own, Lady Sederis, we don’t even know if these threats are credible.”

“Perhaps, but given what we’ve seen of Nassana Dantius, I daresay they’re trending in that direction.” Sederis waved a hand dismissively. “Return to your headquarters. I will hammer out the new terms of the contract. Oh, and give my regards to your other company commanders.”

Nalethia stood up, bowing her head. “But of course. Chief, Captain, with me, if you please.”

Once more the trio were striding down well-appointed halls, Andre’s eyes flicking round from LOKI mech to quarian servant to passing asari corporate type, trying to figure out who it was safe to talk round. There was no telling who was serving as Nassana Dantius’ eyes and ears.

Chief Yehlen Pek had no such qualms. “Boss, do you want to tell me what the  _ shrell _ that was all about?”

“Yeah, I uh. Don’t have much familiarity with counter-terror ops, to be honest,” put in Andre, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Pek.

“Quite. But you have to see it from Lady Sederis and my point of view.” Nalethia was moving purposefully, one foot in front of the either, gait graceful enough that Andre couldn’t help but have his eyes drawn downward---and just as quickly snapped up again. They were still working, dammit. “The Dantius contract is a significant amount of cashflow for Eclipse, as well as no small reputation booster, to boot. Fear not, Andre, we will not be setting you up to fail.”

Andre suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Counter-terror ops were far more considered affairs than the straight-up infantry work that he had made his bread and butter, and if he was being utterly honest with himself, his training had been relatively perfunctory. Having experienced commandos and operatives at his side would be a help, but…

“Lady Sederis is detailing one of her own to look after this, though, and we don’t even know if there  _ is  _ a threat.”

At that, Chief Pek gave one of his grating sighs. “Sayn, no less. I know the man. He’s an excellent operative but he’s got next to no will of his own. We’ll  _ have  _ to treat him as Lady Sederis’ spy.”

Nalethia chuckled. “So we give her a good show then, won’t we?” 

They had reached the landing pad now, the Illium night sky looming forth beyond them. The quartet of Eclipse troopers who had been waiting for them upon landing were formed up near the vehicle. As Nalethia swept towards them, they presented arms with admirable polish, and were just as quickly waved down by the Major. Nalethia turned round to regard Pek, who was hanging back as Andre stepped forward to open her door into the aircar.

“Chief, I trust you can handle matters back here?”

Yehlen Pek’s usual look of exasperated detachment melted in favor of professional determination, and the salarian raised his sole arm once more. “Yes, Major. I’ll have a special tasks detachment look into these unions. But I leave our nebulous terrorists in the capable hands of your XO.”

Andre snorted as he walked round to clamber into the shotgun seat of the aircar. “You’re too kind, Chief.”

The last thing Andre heard from Chief Pek was an amused snort as the aircar’s hatch sealed. It wasn’t long before the craft was vectoring about and moving to slip into one of the well-trafficked skylanes that spiderwebbed over Illium. Nalethia took a quick second to flip the vehicle’s autopilot online, then she turned to look over Andre.

“Well, my dear, how are you finding Illium thus far?” Her expression was more than a little amused.

Andre blew out a breath and sunk back into the leather of the aircar chair. “Warn me before you’re going to throw me out there to the CEO and one of our most high-powered clients, next time, yeah?”

Nalethia chuckled and reached over to gently scrape manicured purple nails along Andre’s shorn scalp. Her laughter soon grew even more musical as pleased, happy little whimpers bubbled up from her lover.

“That good, hm? Excellent.” Nalethia gave Andre a gentle kiss on the temple. “We’ll make it even better soon as we’re home.”

Andre whimpered happily and let his eyes flutter shut. 

As the aircar sailed into the Illium sunset, a new sun blossomed from behind them, and Dantius Tower Two was engulfed in flames.

* * *

**CODEX ENTRY**

Illium - Private Security and Law Enforcement: One would be forgiven for assuming that due to the predominance of plutocrats on Illium, right down to the Directorate that runs the world, the entire world would be reliant on private enterprise to maintain law in order. In fact, most of Illium's major cities do in fact have a police force of some sort. Unfortunately, these organizations are often either under-trained or unscrupulous---or, worse yet in the eyes of some of Illium's elite, _too_ scrupulous. Many an Illium law enforcement officer has found their career stonewalled because they dug too deep into matters that they shouldn't have, and in the higher ranks of most police departments on-world corruption is the norm rather than the exception. 

Despite these roadblocks, the llium Directorate has a vested interest in ensuring that their world retains its reputation as a safe place for individuals to do business, and so when it comes to preventing petty crime the police are given significant funding and discretion to keep the streets clean. So long as major corporations or wealthy beings aren't involved, the various Illium police departments do their level best to do their duty.

When those entities _are_ involved, however, things get complicated. The vast majority of corporate entities on Illium would rather not leave their lives and property in the hands of the public sector, and contract private security corporations or stand up their own internal forces to secure their assets. Elanus Risk Control Services, Eclipse, Interstellar Advisory Group, and Tidal Protective are just a sampling of some of the entities employed across Illium. In order to provide necessary services on-planet, these organizations need a clause in their contract providing them with powers of detainment, arrest, and other law enforcement legalities. The Illium Directorate boasts that their vetting process for such permissions is extremely stringent. In reality, a generous application of cash is more than sufficient to secure their being granted. After this is approved, oversight of private security operations is minimal to nonexistent.

Unsurprisingly, the Illium law enforcement community is less than fond of the private security sector on-planet, but has to grit their teeth and cooperate---the consequences of crossing the Directorate are far too great to do otherwise.


	2. Blast Radius

_Nos Astra, Illium, 2177_

Yehlen Pek had managed to escape losing his other arm, to say nothing of his life. Most of the Eclipse troopers in Dantius Tower One had been similarly lucky.

The same did not apply to those in Tower Two.

“It’s a shrelling mess,” growled Pek, pacing back and forth like a caged varren, crunching over bits of plaster and debris. They were standing amongst ground zero of the Tower Two blast site, trying their best to sort through the remnants and gather what clues they could. Eclipse troopers picked through the wreckage, occasionally calling out findings to each other and their NCOs. Every now and again a new body would be found amongst the rubble and carried forth to be tallied and buried. 

Some were in all-too familiar yellow armor. Far too many were in civilian attire.

“Go over the numbers again?” Andre pinched his brow. No more corporate attire for him, now, he was armored up and with tech armor online too. There was no telling how much of a delay there’d be on any secondaries in place.

“For our people? Fifty-six total, thirty dead, twenty-six wounded.” Pek shook his head. “We’ll have to pull troops from Enyala’s company. That’s not a fight I’m looking forward to.”

“She’ll fuckin’ deal with it,” said the third party in the huddle. Vanguard Sergeant Alree T’Mira was the battalion operations sergeant, a rapier of a woman with sharp features and dark blue skin. She had been part of Nalethia’s personal commando squad on Anhur before receiving one of the post-war promotions, but it had done nothing to dull her belligerent nature. Even now she was pausing to sniff from a packet of red sand kept in her belt kit. “This contract takes priority.”

“Agreed,” echoed Andre. “We’re also putting together the counter-terror operation, it’ll be operational within the week. I don’t know if that’s what Dantius wants to hear---”

“It’s not,” rasped Pek.

“---so your team will take over as a stop-gap measure to identify any leads we have,” finished Andre, calmly. Pek had been around the block quite a few times, but that didn’t mean Andre could let the man ride roughshod over him. He wasn’t 76 Company’s most inexperienced officer anymore. “Vanguard Sarn’t, do me a favor and ping Wasea and Enyala, tell them I need to know if they can spare the soldiers we requested.”

T’Mira gave him one of her wolfish grins, the kind that said that following his orders was far more a matter of entertainment than discipline. “You got it, Cap’. Just saw that Senior Operative Morl’s special-missions detachment is also rotating on-world, too. Might want to reach out to them.”

“Not familiar with them, so you’ll have to make introductions---” Andre paused, looked over with a frown to a new sound: an aircar was approaching.

Chief Pek stepped next to Andre, squinting at the approaching craft---and then groaned. “Sir? Get ready for trouble.”

The vehicle was heeling about to land, now, revealing Eclipse livery of the same sort favored by the garrison on-world. But the vehicle was of a much higher quality model than those used by the locals.

Alree rolled her shoulders and swaggered a couple steps forward to get a better look. Several of Pek’s troopers were abandoning their forensic efforts and falling in to form an impromptu honor guard near the vehicle. “Lady Sederis?”

“Likely,” gritted out Pek. “And worse.”

The aircar door hissed open, and the honor guard presented arms as an all-too familiar asari in black commando leathers emerged. Jona Sederis was girded for battle, customary asari sword sheathed over her shoulder, and she didn’t so much as blink at the salutes rendered as she stormed over to where the command huddle was taking place.

Nor was she alone. Behind her, a spindly green-skinned salarian emerged from the vehicle. With some salarians, like Pek, it was very easy for Andre to tag their age and experience. Others, however, were a bit more of a cipher, and this salarian was fresh-faced, and carried himself with parade-ground erectness rather than the world-weary pride of someone like Pek, or poor Renakosh Bryn who had died on Anhur.

“Worse?” muttered Andre to Pek.

“Sayn.”

“Sane? Who’s not sane around here?”

Pek shook his head once. “Shut it. Sir.”

The trio snapped to as Sederis approached, and were just as quickly irritably waved down. “Well?”

“Sorry, Lady Sederis.” As senior officer it fell to Andre to answer, much as he’d just as rather not. “We’re still doing a rummage of the blast site, but so far all we’ve found are debris and bodies.”

“I know, human, Major T’Resh passed along the casualty reports.” Sederis sighed and looked to Pek, dismissing Andre. “Chief?”

Pek’s baleful gaze was directed at the other salarian, but it snapped over. “Captain Protin is correct, Lady Sederis. So far we’ve been unable to determine type of ordnance, method of emplacement, or indicators as to who may have done it.”

The other salarian frowned. “How long have you been carrying out your investigations, Chief?”

“We’ve been at it for four hours now,” said Pek. His teeth were starting to grind again.

The salarian frowned and looked to Andre. “That seems a bit inefficient, Captain.”

It was all Andre could do to not give the other a look mingled disgust and fascination. “I’m sorry, _who_ are you?”

Alree T’Mira suppressed a snicker behind a cough as the other salarian puffed out his chest.

“I’m Chief Operative Vandew Sayn, Lady Sederis’---”

Jona Sederis raised a hand. 

The salarian instantly deflated, posture shifting into a slouch that all but oozed servility. It was all Andre could do to not let out an exasperated sigh. He’d seen the type before. The insert-appendage-here of some senior officer or another, more than willing to flex the authority and standing their boss’s name gave them, and just as quickly crumpling like the paper tiger they were should that boss ever turn on them. No wonder Pek was practically grinding his teeth down to nothing.

Sederis looked back to Andre. “Sayn will be serving as Chief Operative of your little task force, Captain. While I trust Nalethia to handle matters, you are unproven here---yes, even after Anhur. So I will need to keep a very close eye on your work, and that means having someone I trust implicitly in a leadership role with your group.”

Andre suppressed a wince. One didn’t question Jona Sederis and live to tell the tale, but he had a nasty suspicion that dealing with Sayn was going to be like gargling broken glass. “Very good, Lady Sederis. Chief, I’ll put you in the loop as soon as my task force is operational---”

Jona Sederis inclined her chin. It was more dangerous a gesture than if she’d gone for her sword. “Why are you here then, Captain?”

“Working with Chief Pek to get as many preliminary findings as we can so we can hit the ground running, Lady Sederis.” Andre’s throat was suddenly dry. “It’s just a stopgap measure, Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira and I already have a list of names, we just need the final approval from higher headquarters and the units we’re pulling them from.”

“They’re approved,” came the immediate response from Sederis. “And if your ‘higher headquarters’ take umbrage with that, human, they are more than welcome to take it up with me. Now. I am going to meet with Nassana Dantius. When you’re done here, I want you to communicate your findings to me directly via Sayn. Is that clear?”

Andre looked to the salarian; Sayn was already proffering a datachip, which Andre duly pocketed. “Very clear, Lady Sederis.”

“Good.” And without further ado, Sederis swept away back to her aircar. Sayn lingered for a second longer to regard Andre, and then was pivoting about to follow Sederis back into the vehicle.

Pek, Andre, and T’Mira watched them go, but not a word was said until the aircar was a safe distance away. Andre turned to regard Pek, brows arched. “So. You know him?”

“We were Union together,” rasped Pek. “Absolute wizard with logistics. No backbone of any kind. He was one of the first of our people recruited for Eclipse, and Sederis appreciates a good lackey.”

Andre groaned. T’Mira snickered again.

A missile lazily corkscrewed its way into visual range and slammed into the side of Jona Sederis’ aircar.

NCO, Operative and officer all stared slack-jawed for a second---and then they burst into action.

Andre was already racing for the aircar he’d arrived in. “Sarn’t, with me! Chief have your people lock down the towers, now!”

T’Mira didn’t hesitate, easily loping along in stride with Andre. Pek took a couple seconds to rap out orders to his soldiers and then he too was leaping to land in the back seat of the aircar just before the doors hissed shut. Andre was already flipping the engines to life, bringing the vehicle up and away from Tower Two and racing in the direction of Sederis’ beleaguered craft.

Credit where it was due, whoever was behind the pilot’s yoke of that aircar was doing a spectacular job of maintaining control. There was merely the slight issue that whoever _was_ piloting it was steering it in the direction of the missile’s exhaust trail.

“What the _hell_ are they doing?” Andre shook his head, bringing the aircar about to follow suit. “Chief, I thought you said this guy was a coward!”

“I said he has no backbone,” snapped Pek, hauling himself upright and flaring his omnitool to life. “He’s got physical courage, alright.”

“Kamikaze run with an aircar, though?” T’Mira was slamming a new thermal clip home in her shotgun. “That’s hardcore. Respect.”

Andre was about to issue a rejoinder of his own, but settled for a surprised yelp as two more missiles went sailing past the aircar from down below. “Looks like these guys failed terrorist school, you’re supposed to do a runner _after_ the initial strike.”

Sederis’ aircar was banking to follow the new exhaust trails, and they were getting close to hitting ground. The missiles had been fired out of a crowded shopping plaza---clearly having been concealed at some point beforehand---and there were civilians racing to flee the scene before the aircar made its landing. The damaged craft, still streaming smoke of its own, slammed into the ground, skidding along to crash into a large fountain. Small arms fire replaced missiles as the assailants moved to target the groundbound vehicle.

“Shit.” The curse from Pek was a knife slash. “Protin, get us on the fucking ground, _now_.”

“Working on it, I’m an officer, we don’t _drive_ \---”

Alree T’Mira let out an amused howl of laughter at that one as Andre bought the car about for a far more sedate landing on the opposite side of the plaza from the assailants. Stray gunfire was already streaming in the trio’s direction as they disembarked, but Andre could see them more clearly now: LOKI mechs, for the most part...and a trio of asari with spent ML-77 launchers and large civilian bags slung over their shoulders.

Andre and T’Mira were already opening fire, but Pek had other concerns on his mind. “No movement from the crash site.”

“Guess Sayn’s a terrible pilot,” said T’Mira, ducking down to swap thermal clips.

“If Lady Sederis is dead, that’s not going to be a good alibi for us----” began Andre.

Then the water from the still-bubbling fountain erupted and a blue streak surged forth like the proverbial bat out of hell, eliciting shocked profanities from Andre and the enemy asari alike. The blue surge went slamming into the midst of the LOKI mechs, smashing several before resolving itself into a whirlwind of black-clad death. 

“Shit,” repeated Pek. “Cease fucking fire, we don’t---”

“Yeah I know,” Andre had lowered his rifle. “No way in hell do we want to hit her.”

By the time the three horrified asari had entered shotgun range, Jona Sederis had turned the LOKIs to a sparking pile of spare parts. Her sword was out in hand, pulsing with biotic energy, and the smile on her face was of sheer bloodthirsty joy. The attackers stood their ground, but none seemed to want to be the first to initiate the imminent fight. 

Sederis looked from one to the other, arched an immaculately cared-for brow, and sighed dramatically. “Very well. I’ll do it myself.”

And then she was charging in, sword flashing in the Illium sun. Her first target managed to get off a blast with her shotgun, one that Sederis managed to easily dodge before dragging her sword across the attacker’s neck. The next asari was sent flying headfirst into a wall with a biotic throw, leaving one final asari to square off opposite the leader of Eclipse.

To their credit, they decided to make a fight of it. The attacker reached down for their boot and the sunlight glinted off of a long-bladed knife in her hand. Then both she and Sederis were charging at each other. A brief flurry of blades and biotics later, the asari had joined her comrades on the ground.

Andre, T’Mira, and Pek all broke cover to trot over to Sederis’ position. A scrape of metal on metal from her wrecked aircar heralded the arrival of Sayn as well.

The salarian had a look of abject terror splashed across his face, as if the attack was somehow his fault. “Lady Sederis, are you hurt---”

“No.” Sederis didn’t even so much as look at Sayn before rounding on Andre. “Get your team operational within twenty-four hours, Captain. Or have a _very_ good reason for why it is not.”

***

Eclipse’s headquarters on Illium weren’t quite so dizzying heights as the Dantius Towers, but the company had done well enough for itself it could afford all the finer creature comforts that Illium had to offer. Most importantly for Andre, this included an officer’s lounge of the same level of comfort and luxury that the one aboard Jona Sederis’ flagship _Corona_ boasted. There was a dizzying array of beverages and dishes available, mostly asari cuisine that Andre could barely pronounce, but there was also a small but satisfying selection of human snacks and drinks for the small but growing minority within the ranks.

Andre was partaking in the latter at the moment, seated at a table next to a panoramic plate glass window, looking out at the cityscape. In one hand he was idly swirling some Serrice Ice brandy of a vintage he’d never have dared order had it not been offered to him. In the other was a piece of some of the greasiest pizza he’d ever seen---which was perfect.

Seated across from him, Captains Enyala and Wasea were struggling to cope with this alcoholic faux pas even as the trio attempted to play a round of that asari card game whose name Andre still hadn’t picked up.

“So does that pair better with the Serrice Ice or the Armali Reserve, Andre?” asked Wasea, smirking as she slid a pair of credchits into the center of the table. “I think the grease probably brings out the fruity flavor of the latter, personally. Raise by fifty.”

“Just consider yourself lucky I haven’t thrown you out the window,” growled Enyala, taking an aggressive pull of her beer. “Especially after you bled my company dry for Pek.”

Andre scowled. He’d known Enyala was callous, but her blase attitude about Pek’s casualties was beyond the pale even for her. “You’re being tasked out in squads right now, I’m pretty sure you can spare a platoon to bring Pek back up to agreed strength. He lost _thirty soldiers_ , Enyala.”

“Hazards of the profession,” said Enyala, shifting her arrogantly dismissive expression to the credchip pile. “What’s the bet at?”

“One hundred now,” said Wasea, arching a brow. “Well?”

“Raise to one-fifty,” shot back Enyala, and slid in her chips.

“For someone complaining about not getting enough taskings you’re sure free and easy with your creds,” said Andre, before taking an extra large bite of his pizza. Around a mouthful of melted cheese he slid in his credits and said, “Call.”

Wasea was hiding an obvious grin with her hand. “Check.”

“Get fucked, furhead,” said Enyala, glaring at Andre. “It’s not my fault asari are willing to pay more for our own expertise. Check.”

“Check,” said Andre, washing down the pizza with an extra-long pull of Serrice that he instantly regretted. “Alright, let’s see ‘em.”

“You two can _both_ get fucked,” said Wasea, tossing down her hand with a smirk. “Eternity’s Embrace, bitches.”

“Oh---Tides drag you down, Wasea.” Enyala threw in her cards. “Huntress Party.”

Andre took a more restrained sip of his Serrice Ice this time. “So is that like, a _hunting_ party, or just a bunch of commandos throwing down?”

“I always liked the second one more,” said Wasea, giving Andre a wink.

“Does it matter, Protin?” Enyala was much less amused, gesturing at the table. “Play your hand.”

“I don’t know what it is.”

Enyala and Wasea exchanged glances. Enyala spoke first. “I swear if you got the Justicar’s Peace again---”

“---or Matriarchal Wisdom---” put in Wasea.

“---I am _definitely_ throwing you out the window. And your gunship pilot pal ain’t here to save you now.”

Andre threw his cards on the table and got to his feet, vision abruptly swimming red. Antonia Maggidis, callsign Sunflare Three-One, had been one of the few other humans in Eclipse’s ranks during the Anhur Civil War. She’d had Andre’s back with close air support and at the card table alike during the long campaign, taking more than one punch from Enyala in the process.

She’d been shot down during the last push on the capital New Thebes. They’d never found the body.

Enyala had gotten to her feet to square off against Andre, a nasty smile spreading across her face even as she rolled her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Protin? Dead’s dead, they don’t give a shit what we say about ‘em.”

“She deserves _respect_ , Enyala.” Andre blew out a breath through his nose. Brawling in here was a damned bad idea, but he couldn’t let this go unchallenged. “Now you apologize or---”

There was a faint cough next to the table. Andre’s tunnel vision faded---and he looked over to see a wiry Salarian in gleaming yellow armor standing next to the table. The man had dun-colored skin, a disdainful look, and, bizarrely, a bag slung at his waist with what were unmistakably a set of knitting needles and crochet hooks interspersed with throwing knives.

Wasea raised her glass in salute. “Morl! You son of a bitch, how was the Bekenstein operation?”

“Textbook.” The salarian bit off his syllables as he flicked his unimpressed expression over to Andre. “Senior Operative Albrek Morl. Are you Captain Protin?”

Andre slowly lowered his fists and looked to the new arrival. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira informed me I am to be under your command.” The salarian’s lip curled in a disdainful sneer, garotte-tense posture not even so much as moving. “Excellent first impression. _Sir_.”

Enyala snickered. Andre sighed. The word had been ‘sir’ but everyone present could no doubt hear ‘human.’ “Matter of honor, Senior. Care to join us? I was just about to get cleaned out by Wasea.”

Morl’s dark-eyed gaze flicked from Andre to Enyala, Wasea, and back again. “No.”

Andre looked askance at him. “...not fond of humans, are you, Senior.”

“No,” repeated Morl. “I have the final roster. I will set to work organizing the group and beginning analysis of the data we’ve assembled. I am surprised this was not already done.”

“Well, Senior, I had hoped to confer with Major T’Resh to determine our first course of action---”

“Inefficient. No reason not to begin with initial analysis and wargaming of what we know.” Morl’s expression flattened out into a scowl. “Is this your first counter-terror operation?”

Andre knew he was blushing, judging by Wasea’s amused expression. “Well...yes.”

This time Morl _did_ say it aloud. “Fine, human. I’ll take care of things. Excuse me.”

Then he was pivoting about to stride off, leaving behind a very perturbed Andre.

“Is he gonna be a problem?” he said to Wasea.

“Maybe.” Wasea was idly swirling her drink. “He does _not_ like humans. But he’s a professional, so he’ll get the job done. Ex-STG, this sort of work is easy as sneezing for him.”

Great. Wonderful. It was bizarre that other than Enyala, the biggest sources of anti-human sentiment he’d personally met in Eclipse had all been salarian. Pek and Bryn had both come around eventually, but this guy Morl was tighter-wound than any salarian Andre had ever met. The man’s expertise would come in handy, sure, but if ever Andre would be worried about one of his people trying to hijack a command, this would be it.

And there was the matter of Sayn to consider as well....

“Hey. Protin.” Enyala was gesturing at the table. “You gonna play?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah.” Andre tossed down his cards. “There.”

Wasea barked a laugh and tossed back the rest of her drink. “Son of a _bitch_ , Matriarchal Wisdom. Pot’s yours, Andre.”

Andre scooped up the credchits and walked away, heedless of the profanities being hurled at him from Enyala. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

**///MESSAGE BEGINS///**

**> >** **MESSAGE FROM:** Lady Jona Sederis

 **> >MESSAGE TO: **T'Resh, MAJ Nalethia; Protin, CPT Andre; Pek, COV Yehlen; dl.Illium.tfumbra

 **> >SUBJECT: **New Special Missions Unit Activation (Task Force Umbra)

 **> >MESSAGE: **The terrorists who killed your sisters and the civilians they were charged with protecting have now struck at me. The time for dallying is over. Per _my_ authority, all requested transfers to CPT Protin's TF Umbra are authorized. All equipment requests are authorized. Should any of our rear-echelon or corporate peers take exception to this, they are to direct their concerns to me.

 **> >**Counter-terror operations are by their nature slow-paced affairs, and we must balance the need to get the job done with the speed demanded of us by Nassana Dantius. Therefore concrete deliverables will be critical for ensuring client satisfaction. I have informed Madam Dantius that she will receive an initial report within 72 hours. This will consist of an assessment of the possible impact of continued terror attacks on her operations, mitigation recommendations, and our hypotheses on the identity of the culprits, their motivations, and their capabilities. Further reports detailing mission progress will be delivered to Madam Dantius and myself on a weekly basis.

 **> > **Chain of command is as follows: CPT Protin will be in overall command. COV Sayn will be task force Chief Operative. VSG T'mira will be operations sergeant. These assignments have already been confirmed by myself and MAJ T'Resh. If anyone has any issues serving under a furhead, they are more than welcome to request a deferral of the transfer orders and forfeit pay accordingly while they await reassignment.

 **> > **We have proved our worth on this world on multiple occasions, now we have a chance to show our high-value clients what we can do beyond mere physical protection. Do not fail me.

 **> > **Eclipse Forever.

**///MESSAGE ENDS///**


	3. Into the Umbra

_ Nos Astra, Illium, 2177 _

They were calling it Task Force Umbra, and at first there had been one hell of a clamor for transfers. But the bulk of the attention had come mostly from asari in their maiden years, eager for action and thinking that an outfit with a cool name and mission would fit the bill. When the reality of the slower, more considered pace of operations had come to light, transfer requests had dropped off, and some had even gone so far as to defer their orders and forfeit a pay period in hopes they’d get back into the action.

Some had stayed on, however, knowing the high profile of the unit and mission was far more likely to attract acclaim and raise their profile in the eyes of Jona Sederis than simple warfighting. The more experienced matrons who had cut their teeth in the uniform of the Asari Republics or had seen many years of service in Eclipse were in this one for the long haul.

That had been the asari. The veterans of the Salarian Union knew far better what they were getting into, for this had been their bread and butter. Intelligence analysts champing at the bit for a new puzzle to untangle, reconnaissance specialists who felt more at home on stakehout in a hide with a cloaking device than in their own beds, and even a smattering of STG veterans eager to bloody their molecular stilettos once more had signed on. Some, like the prickly Senior Operative Morl, were visibly chafing at serving under a human. Others were treating it as a learning experience, a chance to merge human and salarian best practices to create the perfect special missions unit.

There was a smattering of humans, of course, as there always were, with the usual jack of all trades spread that correlated to no particular profession or demographic. Some were analysts, some engineers, and there were even a few N-series veterans who treated their new commander with quiet humility and confidence.

None of the three groups had wasted any time getting to work.

Seated on the balcony of the spacious Nos Astra apartment he shared with Nalethia T’Resh, Andre Protin scrolled through the day’s reports from the team and shook his head in amazed disbelief. “We really hit the ground running, didn’t we?”

Nalethia was sweeping onto the balcony with two glasses of Serrice Ice Brandy, one of which she proffered to Andre before sinking down onto the chaise next to him. “We do value efficiency in Eclipse, dearest, and your task force was selected to be our best.”

Andre took a sip of his brandy, and was about to say something when Nalethia gently tangled her fingers up in his hair and gave a little tug to pull him up against her. His mouth opened and a faint, keening whimper emerged.

His lover sighed in the way one does while enjoying a particularly fine symphony, and looked out to the still-gleaming skyline of Nos Astra at sundown. “Delicious. Alright, Andre, I suppose you want to be verbal for a bit, yes?”

He looked over to her and nodded once, briefly, even as he felt himself flushing. “Y-y-yes please.”

Nalethia smirked and released the pressure. “Go on, then, tell me what you’ve learned.”

Andre blew out a breath and a took a second to compose himself, and then looked back down to the datapad. “...ahem. Ah---Chief Pek has sent us the final assessment of the Tower Two bombing. I’m passing it along to my technical intelligence people, hopefully we can determine what components were used and start tracing where they can be sourced here on Illium. We’re also attempting to identify the asari who attacked Lady Sederis, but it’s proving difficult.”

“Oh?” Nalethia sipped her brandy and arched a brow. “How so?”

“Nothing to go off of just yet. No identifying material on them, OTs were factory fresh with no incriminating data, so we’re sending their prints and genetic data to NAPD to see if they can help.” Andre shrugged haplessly. “But it’s NAPD. So who knows when we’ll get results back from that.”

“Don’t be so quick to discount them, my dear. It takes a special kind of person to go into public service on so private sector a world.” Nalethia took another sip of her brandy and swirled the drink gently. The ice cubes clinked next to Andre’s ear as she ran immaculately lacquered nails over the shaven sides of his scalp. “They are often doing the best they can. Do you have the name of your contact?”

Andre racked his brains. “Chief Sayn said it was a Detective Anaya.”

Nalethia gave Andre a gentle kiss. “Excellent. I’ll see to it she gets some...incentive to do her job well.”

He looked up at that, expression halfway between curious and perturbed. For all that she loved him (and he her), Nalethia was fond of every now and again reminding him of just how ruthless she could be if it served the mission. “Is this incentive coming out of a barrel or a bank account?”

She just chuckled and gave him another scratch on the temple. “With luck, neither. NAPD and Eclipse owe each other favors, here and there. Might as well call one in.”

“Alright, just so long as we don’t have to be breathing down our necks for unwanted police attention, yeah?”

“Of course, dearest.” Nalethia took a sip of her Serrice Ice brandy. “Fear not. This is far from my first time working with local law enforcement.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Andre, nuzzling closer. He was only half-joking, and judging by the reassuring caresses, Nalethia knew it too. “But I trust you, Nal.”

“I know.” She leaned in to gently press her lips to his temple, arms wrapping round to pull him closer. “And I would never do anything to abuse that, my love.”

They were silent, after that, tangled up in each other and watching Nos Astra go by.

***

The next day, in the middle of a staff meeting with the task force’s senior leadership, Andre’s omnitool had dinged with an incoming call. Grateful for any excuse to abandon yet another lecture from Sayn about ‘this is how Lady Sederis would want it done,’ he stepped out onto the balcony.

The image of an asari matron with deep blue skin and intense, cynical features flared to life. “This is Detective Anaya of the Nos Astra Police Department. Am I speaking to Captain Protin?”

“That’s right.” Andre regarded the other, trying to keep his features neutral as possible. “What can we do for you, Detective?”

“Other way round, human,” Anaya’s expression was stone faced. “I didn’t know you were Nalethia’s bondmate. I don’t have the intel you’re looking for, but I can give you a better picture of what’s going on.”

Andre glanced over his shoulder at the conference room. Sayn was still pontificating; Vanguard Sergeant Alree T’Mira was snorting red sand in a visible effort to stay awake, looking bored out of her skull; Senior Operative Morl was staring down Sayn with laser-sharp focus, still wearing his usual look of disdainful intensity. At least it wasn’t just Andre on the receiving end of that.

On the other hand, if Andre was being equated in Morl’s eyes to Vandew Sayn, that was a decided kick in the teeth.

But that could wait until later. 

“Alright. I owe  _ you _ , you just gave me an excuse to dip out on a staff meeting. I’ll be at your precinct in, say, half an hour?”

“Make it forty-five, coffee maker here is slow as hell.”

“Deal,” said Andre, and shut off his omnitool. Turning round he rapped on the glass door to the conference room, startling Sayn into briefly pausing his diatribe and earning a grin from Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira. 

Sayn walked over to the door and slid it open. “...Boss?” 

Andre grinned. “Get me an aircar, Chief. Vanguard Sarn’t!”

T’Mira perked up. “What’s up, Cap’?”

“Polish your armor and put your red sand away for a little bit. We’re gonna go pay our law enforcement colleagues a visit.”

Alree T’Mira unlimbered herself from her seat and swaggered over to where Andre was standing on the balcony. One last hit of red sand was consumed, and the asari commando leaned in close enough for Andre to get a whiff of the mingled sweat, gun oil and faintest hint of woody perfume that clung to her. Her usual wolf-like grin was on display in full force. 

“You’re lucky I like you, Cap’,” she purred, and pulled back to lean on the railing.

Sayn, used to the vagaries of asari, was finishing up tapping a command or two into his omnitool. If he noticed the flush spreading over Andre’s features, he didn’t bother acknowledging it. “Aircar’s on the way, boss. Do you, ah, want me along for this one?”

“Nah, need you to---” Andre blinked, considering. Behind Sayn, he could see Morl shaking his head sharply. “Need you to hold fast here, make sure that we finally get the reports from the technical intel analysts collated for Lady Sederis. Go on and put your name on ‘em as senior officer reviewing, you’re doing most of the coordinating there.”

Sayn’s eyes sparkled and his posture immediately straightened, chest puffing out. “Well. That’s very generous of you, Captain. Don’t worry, I’ll have everything in order.”

The thrum of an aircar was closing in behind Andre, and as he turned round Alree vaulted into the open compartment, slithering behind the pilot’s controls. “C’mon, Cap!”

Andre looked back to Sayn. “Of course, Chief---”

And then a biotic field was enveloping him to pull him into the aircar. Andre suddenly found himself looking up at the sharp features of Alree, who briefly ruffled his hair before gently pushing him into the passenger seat. “Can’t keep the cops waiting, Cap’, c’mon now.”

Asari. But Andre couldn’t help but feel a little traitorous for how the hard-edged noncom made him blush the same way Nalethia did. Given the cultural differences, it was hard to tell if the veteran commando was messing around, flirting---or, hell, both?

He’d puzzle it out later. The aircar was already heeling about and deftly slipping into the rest of the traffic streaming through the Nos Astra skyline. Next to Andre, Alree idly punched a location into the autopilot and flared her OT to life. Within seconds a teeth-rattling bass was thudding through the vehicle, alien chanting in a language Andre couldn’t understand suffusing the vehicle. The Vanguard Sergeant sighed happily, much like Nalethia did while listening to a symphony, and winked at Andre.

“Gotta get hyped before meeting the cops, and it’s bad form to go in hopped on red sand, hey?”

Andre was trying to figure out what language he was listening to. It was...krogan? Turian? Maybe? “Maybe. Red sand’s legal here, after all.”

Alree snickered. “I mean sure, but cops are cops. Doesn’t matter if they’re Republics MPs or NAPD blueshirts. They gotta be more relaxed here, but they’ll side-eye ya. I bet the Detective likes you though.”

It was everything Andre could do to not give his ops sergeant a long-suffering look. “And why is that, Sarn’t?”

“You’re  _ wholesome _ , Sir.” Alree gave him a wink. “Not an old reprobate like me.”

“Old?” Andre squinted. He was bad about judging asari age, but Alree definitely didn’t  _ look  _ matriarchal. “You don’t even look out of your maiden years.”

The Vanguard Sergeant barked a harsh laugh. “Nah, but I’ve been in and out of prison plenty. Got the tats for it too.”

Of course, the only markings visible on Alree in her armor were her stark facial tattoos. “Why?”

“Covert ops gone bad in C-Space, clients who said they’d cover for us when they didn’t, commando tactics used on contracts where they may not have been the best idea…” Alree shrugged. “The company kinda took a bit to find itself in its earlier years. Props to Lady Sederis though, she always had our backs. Legal fees, lawyers all that. Made sure it was mostly a slap on the wrist.”

Andre listened, fascinated. The early history of Eclipse hadn’t been something he’d been filled in about much by his colleagues on Anhur, and he hadn’t spoken to Nalethia much about it. “Did you get your start in the Republics?”

“Like hell. I’d have been miserable in a regular military.”

“Look, I was Alliance, I get that, but the Republics are a lot...looser, from what I understand?”

Alree shook her head. “Oh for sure, but even then there’s some stuff you gotta abide by even if you make it into the  _ really  _ good commando units. What’s that human slang again, for elite units?”

Andre sighed. “High-speed.”

“Yeah. High-speed outfits are better for folks like me, but I figured I could also just merc it up from the get-go and cut out the years of having to like. Suffer.” Alree gave Andre an expressive shrug. “Freelanced for a bit, then got in when Lady Sederis was trying to expand Eclipse beyond ex-Republics.”

“Gotcha.” Andre craned his neck to look out at the mass of air traffic whizzing by. “It doesn’t stop here, does it?”

Alree was beating a steady drumbeat on the steering yoke in time with the bass. Her fingers were hard, callused, nails ragged and bitted, and every now and again they’d snap off a brief biotic flare for emphasis along with the lyrics. “Nahhh, but even human colonies are like that, yeah?”

“I was born on Demeter,” said Andre. “So...not really. Not on this scale, at least.”

“Colony kid, hey?” Alree snapped off a massive biotic flare as the beat abruptly shifted from a steady cadence into something far faster pace, and shoved the aircar’s throttle forward. Laughing at Andre’s startled expression, she executed a quick snap-roll over the next vehicle in line in front of them. “Won’t hold it against you. I was actually born on Nevos, myself. With Lady Sederis’ past we got a lot of Thessian posh in the company’s upper ranks. We don’t always get along.”

“Na--Major T’Resh?”

Alree gave one of her barking laughs. “Nah. She’s got a hell of a manicure but her hands are as bloody as the rest of ours.”

It wasn’t an unfair assessment. Andre had been rattled after Anhur at how easily Nalethia had accepted his execution of the surrendered APLA leadership, but...her explanation had made sense too. He’d done it to end the war, to protect his people. The former alone had justified it in her eyes, and Andre hadn’t felt too beat up about it after that. Nalethia knew this world far, far better than he did. He’d follow her lead.

Alree suddenly heeled the aircar about, breaking free of the traffic pattern and headed for a landing platform bordering what looked like an odd mix of industrial facilities and residential habitation. “Here we are, Cap’.”

An asari in dark blue civilian clothes was waiting for them at the landing pad, nursing a cigarette and an almost tangible air of world-weariness as the aircar’s doors hissed open. Behind her the sector was bustling with a surprisingly cosmopolitan crowd for Illium: asari, salarians, turians, volus...even a human or two. 

“Detective Anaya?” 

The asari scrutinized Andre and Alree with a jaundiced eye, smoke from her cigarette curling up round her fringe. The two were armored up in Eclipse kit, and set against the dockworkers, industrial sorts, and generally less combat-oriented crowd their gear stuck out as much as the Blue Suns liked to joke it did.

“Not looking to start a war in my district, are you?” Free of the interference of omnitool comms, Anaya’s voice was a gravelly contralto, likely made even raspier by the cigarette she was puffing on. 

“No Ma’am,” said Andre. “I’m Captain Protin, Task Force Umbra. This is my ops NCO, Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira.”

Alree gave the cop a smirk.

Anaya’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve met. Follow me. Precinct’s this way.”

Without further ado the Detective pivoted about to pace off towards the nearby police station, leaving Andre and Alree to follow in her wake. Alree T’Mira’s usual cocky smirk was gone in favor of something a bit more hostile.

“What do you mean you’ve  _ met _ ,” muttered Andre.

“Got a little rowdy at the Sunspot, one night,” replied Alree, shrugging nonchalantly. “She wants to give me trouble, that’s her call, but don’t you worry Cap’. I ain’t gonna start anything.”

Andre groaned, but said nothing further as they entered the police station. Other officers in the blue-and-black uniform of the Nos Astra Police Department bustled about like bees in a worker hive, manning consoles, checking over evidence, quietly talking to each other in hushed conversations. More than once Andre saw omnitools flare with the telltale symbol of a credit exchange. Illium never changed.

Anaya led the pair back to an evidence room of some sort, all antiseptic silver and gleaming surfaces. The asari police tech inside took a look at the Detective, her guests, and immediately made a hasty exit.

“So. We ran some genetic scans on your perps,” said Anaya, settling down at the console and tapping in a few commands. Three readouts flared to life, showing the faces of the asari killed by Jona Sederis, as well as some other biographical information. “Looks like they arrived on-planet about two weeks ago. Transport bought them in from Omega. Mercs, small-timers looking to break into the big leagues.”

Andre felt his lips twitch in a bemused smirk. “That’s not soldiering, what they were doing.”

The Detective shot him an equally bemused expression. “Human, these are the Terminus systems. Anyone with a gun willing to do things with it for money is a merc out here. You gonna be all  _ honor among mercs _ with me? Cause this is gonna be a long-ass chat if so.”

“Hey.” Alree bristled next to him. “Leave the Cap’ alone, ain’t his fault he’s not had a few centuries to grow as crusty as we have.”

Andre ignored her, leaning forward to survey the information on the three asari. None of them were older than one hundred and twenty-five years old---ancient for a human, but practically children in terms of asari lifespan. Of course they would be raring for a hit on someone like Jona Sederis---they were bold enough to think they could pull it off, hungry enough to see what it could give them, and dumb enough to think they could survive.

“Neither did they,” he murmured. “...Detective, who hired them?”

Anaya grimaced. “Still working on it.”

Dead end. Andre and Alree exchanged glances. Andre lost.

“Alright, forward all this data to my omnitool, I’ll pass it along to my team. Are you building a database of their known movements?” 

“Working on it,” said Anaya, tapping a command into the console. “It’s proving more difficult than we expected. Figured you’d want preliminaries.”

Andre glanced down as his omnitool beeped with a successful file transfer. “Yeah, it’s appreciated. Pass it along to us when you get the chance. We’ll get to work. Come on, Vanguard Sarn’t.”

Anaya waved them out, already lost in the data in front of her.

The door to the analysis room hissed shut behind the two mercenaries, and Andre and Alree began making their way to the exit. The NAPD cops occasionally shot them suspicious looks, but fortunately no one was dumb enough to say or do anything. Alree T’Mira had lapsed back into her usual cocky strut, smirking at each passing cop as if daring them to call the two mercs out.

Andre suppressed a sigh. “Vanguard Sergeant.”

Alree glanced over, arched a brow. “Yeah, Cap’?”

“Take it easy. One front at a time, yeah?”

Alree T’Mira gave Andre a wink. “Alright, Cap’, but only cause it’s you asking. I never got on with cops anyway.”

“I’m shocked, I promise.” Andre waved at a sensor and the precinct’s front doors hissed open. “Relay that data back to Chief Sayn and have his analysts get to work on it. With luck we’ll be able to find their paymaster.”

Alree groaned. “You got it.”

“Not a fan of analysts?”

“Not a fan of all this sitting around, Cap’.” The veteran commando let a low growl rumble forth from the back of her throat, and a biotic glow suddenly pulsed round her for a second. “Need to crack some skulls, and soon.”

Andre nodded sympathetically as they clambered back into the aircar. “When the time is right, Vanguard Sarn’t. When the time is right.”

* * *

Eclipse: Special Missions Units: Being the brainchild of the asari and salarians, it was almost inevitable that Eclipse would develop a robust clandestine operations capability. Unlike its relatively regimented infantry units, Eclipse special missions units (typically abbreviated to SMUs) are rarely long-standing elements, existing for the duration of time it takes to achieve the mission and no longer. This aids operational flexibility by tying down assets as little as possible, and furthermore aids in deniability, as an SMU's records, table of organization and equipment, and roster are all purged from company records upon mission completion. No secret is made of the reason behind this: clients contract Eclipse SMU's specifically for the difficulty of being tied to the clandestine services requested, and Eclipse itself would prefer to be minimally linked to such operations.

A Special Missions Unit is defined by Eclipse as any element that pursues operations outside of standard military or security frameworks, which can include conventional assets utilized for unconventional tasks. These operations can range from corporate espionage, regime destabilization or change, psychological operations, assassinations, counter-terror black operations, and so on. No Eclipse soldier can begin their career with the company in SMUs, with some exceptions: salarians who have significant operational experience with the STG, and asari with at least two centuries' of experience with the Republics Commandos. Despite petitions from humans within the Eclipse ranks, N-series Alliance veterans must serve time in conventional units before being eligible for SMU selection. Due to the salarian's greater experience with black operations, a Senior or Chief Operative is often the leader of an SMU.

Despite efforts to ensure a lack of continuity or footprint by existing SMUs, certain cliques often coalesce after multiple missions together. Veterans of an SMU that worked particularly well together will often be hand-selected by their original leadership for the next operation with a new unit designation. These cliques and units often refer to themselves by their first SMU's original designator rather than the current one, and will have their own unique cultures and memorabilia shaped by their contracts. Eclipse tolerates this, so long as it does not compromise ongoing or completed operations. This is rarely a concern, as the SMUs manage their own affairs with ruthless efficiency---those who run their mouths too much are rarely seen again.


	4. Overt Operations

_Nos Astra, Illium, 2177_

“Nova Four-Nine to all Umbra elements, get ready to have some fun. We are one minute out from the target building.”

Seated in the troop bay of the lead Mantis gunship, Andre Protin released his restraints and scrambled to his feet. “Umbra Six to all stations, secure to lines and prepare to insert. Remember, they might be an elcor but do _not_ get cocky with timing.”

Acknowledgements from each squad leader crackled over his comm. Behind Andre, there was a metallic rattling; Senior Operative Morl had been quietly crocheting in the gunship on the way over, and at the call the veteran salarian was swapping crochet hooks for a throwing knife in each hand.

The bay door opened with a whine of hydraulics, and the Illium cityscape yawned forth before Andre. The gunship heeled about, and the horizon tilted as the Mantis orbited one building, a Nos Astra Central Exchange hub. It was almost sundown on the last day of the work week, which meant that their target was either preparing to or in the midst of partying. The financial sector on Illium worked hard and played hard, according to Nalethia, and even Sayn had voiced his agreement with the timing.

So be it. Andre looked back to Morl. “Senior?”

Morl was hooking into his rappelling harness. “Sir?”

Andre ignored the man’s incredible talent to pack a simple honorific full of condescension. “Remember, soon as we’re on the deck, we haul ass for the target’s office. His protection detail’s elcor too, and I don’t feel like going toe-to-toe with artillery.”

The salarian gave a dismissive noise and gave his knife a twirl with his free hand. “Even elcor go down quick if you stick ‘em in the right spot, human. We’ll take care of it.”

“Thirty seconds,” came the jaunty call from Nova Four-Nine. If Sunflare Three-One back on Illium had been the picture of icy professionalism in the cockpit, Nova had far more zest to her communication style. Andre still wasn’t sure which one he liked better. “Good luck down there!”

“Roger, Nova Four-Nine, break. Umbra Seven?”

“Ready to let you have all the fun, Cap’,” came the contralto of Alree T’Mira. “Blocking positions are a go, we got your back.”

“Ten seconds!” called Four-Nine.

“Roger, Umbra Seven. Alright people, on the ropes, go go!”

Andre was suiting action to words, leaping out of the rear of the troop bay. There was a sickening moment of free fall before his rappel harness caught and began to lower him far more sedately. Around him he could see the other four gunships of the Task Force Umbra strike team take up strategic positions and begin inserting their troops: Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira’s job was to be the cork in the bottle. Andre and Morl were to take care of what was inside.

Whatever the NACE staff were expecting, it wasn’t a raid by Eclipse commandos. Well-dressed asari and humans on the promenade scattered for cover behind planters and ramps, while the volus population did likewise but with far less panache. Andre and the assaulters were already formed up and beginning their advance into the building, moving in double file on either end of the corridor.

“Six, this is Seven, be advised we have no hostiles here as of yet.” T’Mira almost sounded a little disappointed. “Civvies aren’t doing anything stupid either.”

“This is Umbra One-Six, it’s quiet in here as well.” Morl had the same wound-tight cadence as far too many other salarians Andre had met, but with far more of a growling quality to his voice. “Confirmed, no hostiles in here as well.”

The interior of the NACE building was the same antiseptic shininess that was so endemic to Illium, full of bulky planters of real vegetation and holographic projections of more esoteric models. Kiosks and counters for financial speculation had closed down for the weekend, but here and there a servant-type LOKI mech lurked behind them, deactivated for now. 

But the Eclipse team filing past didn’t rouse the mechs from their stupor, and Andre decided he could write them off. They were approaching a more open space; floor plans showed this as one of the main trading floors, and their target’s office was at the top of a stairway leading to his office overlooking the show below. If there was going to be an ambush, it was going to be here.

Someone or something else felt the same. As the team entered the trading floor, two motion signatures pinged on Andre’s tracker in the direction of the target’s office. Two big ones.

At the top of the stairwell, the elcor gunners opened fire.

There were shouts from among the Eclipse, cries for medics, ones just as rapidly drowned out by an absolutely disgusting thunder of mixed rotary cannon fire and grenade launcher impacts. The commandos immediately began returning fire as they scrambled for safety but the advance had completely bogged down. Andre, having dove for cover behind a kiosk advertising Elkoss Combine’s recent gains, took a second to let out a curse.

“What did I _fucking_ say, Senior?”

“That you did not---”

“---feel like going toe-to-toe with artil---” Andre shut up as another grenade salvo impacted uncomfortably close. “--- _fuck_. Alright, Morl, can you stick ‘em?”

The salarian sounded almost embarrassed. “Fatal funnel, even with my stealth field generator---.”

“Sweet.” Andre popped out from behind his cover, triggered a burst from his Vindicator, and just as quickly sank back down as a burst of gunfire shredded the kiosk behind where his head had just been. A quip about sticking to knitting came to mind, but there was no reason to alienate the salarian any further. “Alright. Nova Four-Nine, Umbra Six.”

“Four-Nine here, got some room on your dance card for us?”

“Affirmative, Four-Nine.” Andre looked up to the all-glass panoramic skylight that passed for a roof on the trading hub. “Two tangos just outside the target’s office, elcor gunners. Can you smoke ‘em without fucking up our way in?”

“Negative, we’d shred that stairwell even with the cannon. But we’ll do you one better, Captain. Stand by.”

Andre didn’t bother responding to that. Either the pilot’s gambit would work, or it wouldn’t. “One-Six, talk to me.”

“Everyone’s in cover, casualties included.” Morl still sounded infuriated that two elcor had managed to delay an entire Eclipse assault team. “No one’s in immediate danger of bleeding out or anything.”

“Alright, Nova’s got something planned so just keep up the fire a little longer.”

“Great. Can’t wait to see what.” Morl’s line went dead.

Two seconds later, the sound of a gunship’s engines roared to life overhead, and the glass above shattered with a coordinated biotic blast. Immediately thereafter that the familiar blue blurs of biotic charges heralded the arrival of asari reinforcements.

Immediately after _that_ the gunfire and explosions from the top of the stairs were drowned out in a hail of shotgun fire.

“Ah,” said Andre to nobody in particular.

His comm crackled to life with the familiar voice of Alree T’Mira. “Told you we’d have your back, Cap’. C’mon up, thanks for letting us have some fun.”

Andre slowly got to his feet. “Thanks, Vanguard Sergeant. Senior Op, detail a team to get the wounded out of here. Effectives stack up and get ready to breach.”

Morl and the others still effective were already advancing, a bit more sedately now that they knew the target was trapped. There hadn’t been any elcor-sized escape routes they could ID, and as Andre ascended the stairwell, Morl almost lazily slapped a breach charge onto the door lock and raised a clenched first.

Andre hefted his assault rifle, keenly aware of Alree T’Mira’s predatory figure stalking into position next to him, her commandos stacking on either side of the door.

Morl raised one finger. Two. Three.

The door splintered in a blast of blue flare, and a hail of high-calibre autocannon fire came spewing out.

“Shit---Senior, stealth up and get in there---”

But Morl was already flicking out of existence even as Andre and the rest of the commandos threw themselves in cover behind the door frame . A very dull, very baritone expression of surprise emanated from within, followed by the unmistakable sound of a knife burying itself deep within a being.

Immediately after _that_ , there was the crash of a very large collection of flesh and metal collapsing to the ground.

Andre and the commandos didn’t bother clearing the room. It was pretty clear Morl had sorted matters entirely, and the dead elcor lying in a heap on the ground more than confirmed that. Morl was already hunched over the man’s desk, assuming something of Yehlen Pek’s jaundiced look as he began typing at the elcor’s computer.

“Reckon he’ll find what we need, Cap’?” Alree, as always, found such technical matters utterly beyond her ken. 

“Dunno.” Andre had turned round to direct the commandos to take covering positions, but with their centuries of professionalism they’d already beaten him to the punch. He shook his head. One of these days he’d learn to stop micromanaging his soldiers. “If not, we’ll have a lot of explaining to do about why we iced a senior trader.”

Alree dispassionately regarded the body, her arms folded. Andre couldn’t help but notice how flattering her bodysuit was of her powerful arms, but the Vanguard Sergeant was kind enough to distract him with her next question. “So what happens if we _do_?”

With some effort Andre managed to keep his voice level. “Lady Sederis uses me as a convenient scapegoat. And likely yourself and Senior Operative Morl as well.”

The Vanguard Sergeant turned to regard Andre at that, expression eloquent elegy as to what she thought about being used for Lady Sederis’ purposes like that---but she was preempted by an expression of triumph from Morl. The salarian unfurled his figure and strode over to Andre, idly twirling a throwing knife in his hand.

“We got ‘em,” said Morl.

Andre arched his brows, silently requesting the salarian continue.

“Every cred exchange, every transfer of funds.” Morl actually grinned. It was far from a pleasant sight. “Probably would have been better if we’d taken him alive, but that’s OK. We got the intel, Lady Sederis can handle the rest.”

***

“No, she most certainly will _not_!”

Sayn was pacing back and forth in the operations room, one hand nervously drumming a tattoo on his leg. Andre had promised Nassana Dantius that Task Force Umbra would be updating her on the mission’s progress after the raid, and Jona Sederis’ tightly-wound toady had been eager to hear the results and plan talking points before the actual chat.

He wasn’t looking so eager any more, not bothering to hide how frazzled he was to the human and salarian across from him. Yehlen Pek, having arrived from his domain at the Dantius Towers to hear the update, was grinning like a starving varren at his despised colleague’s discomfort. And for once he wasn’t grinding his teeth. “The Captain was told he would have a free hand, Sayn.”

“Yes but they didn’t expect a commando raid on NACE’s shrelling trade floor!”

Andre shrugged, doing his damnedest to appear more nonchalant than he felt as he glanced out the window. It had started raining on their way back to Task Force Umbra’s headquarters, and a mighty thunderstorm was now pelting Nos Astra. He had wanted Morl to stick around with them, but he had begged off, citing his comparatively lower rank. Alree T’Mira had volunteered instead, remarking with a wink and a wolfish grin that if they were going to scandalize Dantius, they might as well go all out.

“Listen, Sa--Chief. They can’t argue with results. We’ve confirmed the creds that paid those mercs up front went through this elcor, we just gotta trace where they came from.” Andre inclined his chin, almost challengingly. “If Lady Dantius has a problem, she is welcome to take it up with _me_.”

Yehlen Pek’s sallow eyes flicked over to Andre at _that_. The hoary old veteran looked almost impressed.

Sayn hesitated, but nodded. “Very well. But if she is less sanguine than you believe---”

“It’s my head on the block,” rasped Pek. “I’m project manager for the Towers’ security operation anyway. Not the first time I’ve had a blade to my neck, Sayn.”

Having seen Jona Sederis in action with her sword, there was a dismaying chance that that hadn’t been a metaphor.

The door to the ops room hissed open, and Alree T’Mira came swaggering in. The Vanguard Sergeant looked from Sayn to Andre with a smirk. “Cap’, they’re ready for us now.”

Andre looked down to his scarred armor, so different from Sayn’s practically gleaming kit. He probably still smelled of gunfire and sweat, too, and his usually well-styled undercut was mussed up and then some. He looked up, nodded at Alree.

“Thanks, Vanguard Sarn’t. Chief Pek, Chief Sayn? After you.”

Yehlen Pek sketched an elaborate courtly gesture with his missing hand, motion for Andre to precede him. “You’re the fearless leader. You first.”

“Suit yourself,” said Andre, and stepped into the hallway.

The conference room had a floor-to-ceiling panoramic view of Nos Astra beyond, the cityscape yawning forth even as rain pattered rhythmically against the glass. The lights reflected off the drops, playing in interesting patterns as Andre turned his attention to the three asari waiting for him.

Nalethia was off to his left, towering over the others even when seated, and she gave Andre a reassuring, caring smile. He briefly let himself remember the feel of her nails running through his hair, and a bit of the tension running through him eased. He didn’t have to worry about walking away with her in the room.

The other two asari, however, were far more threatening presences. Nassana Dantius was seated opposite Nalethia, her usual look of disdainful exasperation gone in favor of something far more ominous. And seated at the head of the table, staring down Andre with narrowed eyes, was Lady Jona Sederis herself. The Eclipse leader was clad in a black dress with gold highlights, her usual asari sword absent, but Andrew knew she didn’t need a weapon to pulp him with her mind.

Here went nothing.

Andre defaulted to military deference, bracing to attention and bowing his head respectfully. “Lady Sederis, Lady Dantius. Major T’Resh. I have the latest report from Task Force Umbra.”

“Yeah? Then let’s cut to the chase, human.” Nassana Dantius looked distinctly unimpressed. “You thought it was a good idea to go guns blazing, storm one of the biggest financial sites in all of Nos Astra, and _ice_ its biggest financier. With no attempt at plausible deniability. Why?”

“We had hoped to take him alive,” Andre admitted. “The man and his protection detail didn’t want to cooperate. Since they were elcor it was kind of a high caliber dispute.”

Nassana Dantius hardly looked impressed, but Jona Sederis raised a hand to forestall any further outbursts. “Lady Dantius, Captain Protin acted as he saw fit within the parameters we gave him. A human cannot be expected to know as much of this tradecraft as our brethren---it was my mistake assuming that his subordinates----”

And here she glared daggers at Sayn, who all but wilted where he stood.

“---would take a firmer hand guiding him. But we will rectify that. Captain Protin, from here out discretion is to be your watchword. Am I understood?”

Andre coughed, embarrassed. “Civvies and concealed sidearms, Lady Sederis, understood. We’ll keep a low profile moving forward.”

“See that you do,” sneered Nassana Dantius, before turning to face Yehlen Pek. “Your colleague’s inexperience may have endangered my property. My enemies _know_ Eclipse is protecting my towers, and they know you have been attacked once, and have now retaliated. Be ready for a strike in turn.”

The familiar grinding noise of Pek’s teeth had returned, but the salarian managed to content himself with that and little more. “We’ve already begun making preparations, Lady Dantius.”

“Good.” Nassana looked to Jona Sederis and shrugged, as if to say she’d nothing forward.

But neither had reckoned with Major Nalethia T’Resh. “Andre, dear, I do think we’ve quite forgotten what it is you gathered from this raid.”

Bless that woman. One of these days Andre was going to do some research on what constituted the ultimate “thank you” meal in Asari culture, and he was going to cook it for her. He nodded.

“Yes, Ma’am. Senor Operative Morl and Chief Sayn were able to track the cred transfers from the NACE to a small holding company in Nos Astra. We were hoping to pay the broker there a visit.” Andre glanced over to Nassana, hoping his features didn’t look quite as guilty as he felt. “Ah. More discreetly, this time around.”

Sederis arched a brow. “And this broker was the one who had direct contact with the asari who tried to kill me?”

Andre suppressed the urge to shrug. One didn’t shrug off the concerns of Jona Sederis. “We believe it’s our best bet, Lady Sederis.”

“Do you trust the hu--your bondmate’s discretion in this matter, Major T’Resh?” Sederis spitted Nalethia with a piercing stare.

“I do indeed,” Nalethia said, not hesitating. “But I do believe it may prove more useful for more sisterhood assets to be allocated to his task force.”

“So be it.” Jona Sederis turned to fix Alree T’Mira with a stare. “Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira, you have full authority in this matter.”

Alree didn’t so much as hesitate, nodding stiffly. “As you wish, Lady Sederis.”

Andre’s eyes flicked over to Alree at that. The sisterhood again, the mysterious sorority within Eclipse ranks that earmarked talented asari for...what? Authority beyond their rank? Accelerated promotion?

It wasn’t the first time he’d crossed paths with them. Back on Anhur, cheerful Xeli T’Veya had been identified by Nalethia as sisterhood material and had promptly shot up from Corporal all the way to Vanguard Sergeant in a matter of weeks. Despite her rapid advancement she’d proven an excellent right hand, always ready with a cheerful quip and a smile to raise spirits.

Andre had always meant to ask her for more details about the sisterhood, but she’d fallen in the final battle in New Thebes. Just another casualty of Anhur, the same as Pek’s brother, or Andre’s first Operative, the acerbic Renakosh Bryn, or poor Sunflare Three-One. He had heard that Eclipse had opened a home office on that world; Andre had no idea if he could ever set foot---

“Captain Protin?”

He blinked. Jona Sederis was staring him down, and with a cough Andre jerked himself back to the present. “Yes, Lady Sederis?”

“Do you have any further concerns we ought to be aware of?”

“No, Lady Sederis.”

“You are dismissed, then. Sayn, Pek, remain behind if you please. I’d like to discuss some more details regarding our project at the Towers themselves.” Sederis gave an airy wave, as if shooing off a somewhat-too-eager puppy. 

Andre suppressed a salute, but he dipped his head respectfully like he’d seen the asari do sometimes, and took his leave. Behind him, Alree T’Mira was murmuring something in the native tongue of the asari and then falling in next to him.

“Poor Chief,” she said once they were safely out of earshot.

“At least there’s nothing they can use against him,” said Andre, shaking his head. “Nothing’s happened at the towers since we were there last.”

Free of the attention of Jona Sederis, Alree had let her features relax back into her usual lazy smirk, her walk shifting from a parade-ground stride back to a cocky swagger. “Oh it ain’t _our_ Chief I’m worried about, Cap’. Sayn was practically quaking in his boots being on the carpet like that.”

Andre looked over, arched a brow at Alree, and received a wink in return. He tried to ignore the sensation corkscrewing up his spine at that. “Well, we’re free and clear right now. Listen, do me a favor and loop me in on any comms that happen for other people you’re sourcing for our team, OK? If I’m poaching Enyala’s grunts I want to see the missile coming before it hits me.”

“Sorry Cap’,” said Alree, and for once the brash commando actually looked apologetic. “Eyes-only for the sisterhood. But I ain’t about to let Enyala kick your ass over it, it’s too pretty to let that happen.”

“L-let’s set matters of my ass aside for a second, yeah?” Andre was doing his level best to ignore the heat he could feel blossoming on his cheeks. It wasn’t easy. “As task force commander I gotta----”

The next thing he knew he was up against the wall, biotic blooms pinning his wrists as he gasped in shock. Alree T’Mira was approaching slowly, deliberately, one hand glowing blue as she reached up to trace a callused finger along his jawline. A shuddering gasp emerged from Andre’s mouth, one that threatened to trail off into a whimper just like Nalethia bought out in him---

\---but this _wasn’t_ Nalethia. Nalethia was all the refined grace of her Matron’s years, though her hauteur had never gotten in the way of her affection and care. Alree was still a maiden, with none of Nalethia’s polish, fonder of midriff-baring tops and leather jackets off-duty than Thessian couture. The scars slashing across her cheek twisted when she gave Andre one of her wolflike smiles, and her expression was more of predator sighting a particularly juicy piece of prey than Nalethia’s of favoring a beloved pet.

But even still, his thoughts turned to mental static at her touch. Just like they did Nalethia’s. 

If Andre was more coherent, he might feel more guilty at this betrayal. But instead he simply settled for whimpering and straining at his biotic bonds.

Alree T’Mira gave him a crooked grin, but it was almost rueful. Her fingers drifted over where the pulse hammered in his throat before withdrawing. “You’re a damned good officer, Cap’, half the reason I volunteered for your show. But this is Sisterhood business. Not yours. Stay in your lane, ok?”

The biotic bonds vanished, and Andre went crashing to the floor. He looked up as Alree’s trim figure loomed over him, and she bent over to offer him a hand up. “We good, Cap’?”

Andre hesitated---but he took it all the same and got to his feet. “...yeah. We’re good.”

Alree winked and strutted off, hips swaying, shoulders rolling. Andre watched her for a quick second and blew out a breath before making good his own escape. He had some officers to talk to. And he needed to figure out how to talk to Nalethia about this.

***

The Sunspot was Eclipse’s de facto hangout in Nos Astra---while the clientele was by no means limited to the company’s employees, no other private security company dared set foot inside, a statue enforced by biotics if necessary. It was hands down the biggest club Andre had ever been in, dwarfing anything on Demeter by a long shot---a yawning tower of drink, drugs and debauchery of all sorts, centering around a crater of a dance floor.

Andre was currently seated at a table overlooking the dance floor, dealing out cards to himself and Wasea. Enyala had been with them, but she had seen someone on the dance floor who had caught her eye and abandoned the game almost immediately. Thanks to the acoustics and some sound engineering Andre didn’t quite understand, he fortunately didn’t have to strain to hear his fellow card player. 

“Tides, I swear if she gets laid tonight she’s going to be insufferable.” Wasea rolled her eyes heavenwards as she picked up her hand. “Every time she comes back to the apartment while I’m trying to work on my schooling, she’s either bitching up a storm about how nobody appreciates her, or about how lame I am for trying to educate myself instead of trying to get high or get off.”

Andre snorted and looked through his hand. “Your fault for picking her as a roomie, Wasea.”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being the battalion commander’s pet,” came the rejoinder, but there was no malice in Wasea’s words. The other asari was rough-hewn but she’d been far more welcoming to Andre than some of the other platoon leaders on Anhur had. Like Enyala. “Besides, we’ve worked together long enough we got an understanding.”

“How long has that been?” Andre glanced over to the dance floor, where Enyala was thrashing her head in time to the beat, next to a very nonplussed-looking salarian. “Decades?”

“Yeah, coming up on a century now.” Wasea shrugged and ante’d up for the hand before digging for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter in her vest. “Speaking of understandings, heard you had a come-to-Athame moment with Lady Sederis.”

Andre winced and met the ante. “Yeah. Uh. Gonna be chatting with you and a few others about best practices for truly clandestine work.”

Wasea winked. “Off to a good start now, Andre. Outfit’s a good mix between civvie-casual but practical enough you can move and fight in them. Raise by fifty.”

He glanced down at that: he was wearing a shorter jacket, practical trousers and boots (though still fancy enough to not get him denied entrance to the club), and a shirt devoid of any Eclipse identification. He could feel Wasea’s amused smirk as he appraised himself, and with a sigh Andre gave his friend a bemused shrug. “I’ll take your word for it. But there’s some stuff I did need to ask you about---match that, raise by fifty more.”

“Call,” said Wasea, tossing in her hand. “Eternity’s Embrace. Alright, what’s up?”

“The Justicar’s Peace,” said Andre, grinning as he scooped up the pot. He’d learned _some_ of the hands by now, even he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the game was _called_. “I need you to tell me what you know about the Sisterhood.”

For a second Wasea stared him down, the only movement from the veteran the smoke curling off her cigarette to wreathe her features. Wasea was silent, and with the club’s lights playing over her purple skin and orange facepaint she suddenly looked and felt very _alien_ to Andre in a way she hadn’t before.

Andre kept his mouth shut, waiting.

Wasea finally spoke. When she did, her words were absent of their usual light tone. “That’s a question for your ops sergeant.”

“Alree T’Mira shoved me against a wall, choked me out, and told me to stay in my lane.”

The facade cracked, and half Wasea’s mouth quirked. “I think she knows you well enough she thought that was probably the most enjoyable way to do it.”

Andre ignored the heat blooming on his cheeks. “Look, that’s besides the point. If the Sisterhood’s gonna be helping me out directly, I need to know just who they _are_.”

Wasea’s smile faded, and for a second longer she was silent once more. “I can tell you, Andre. But we keep ourselves to the shadows for a reason. You go in there, it’s _damn_ hard to get back out---and we don’t much care for anyone else coming in. You still want to talk?”

With a defiant expression, Andre drained the remainder of his drink and stared back at Wasea. “Yes.”

“Alright,” said Wasea. “Let’s talk.”

* * *

**///MESSAGE BEGINS///**

**> >** **MESSAGE FROM:** VSG T'Mira, Alree

 **> >MESSAGE TO: **CPT Wasea, Selene; CPT Enyala, Kataria

 **> >SUBJECT: **Sisterhood members needed for TF Umbra

 **> >MESSAGE: **Task Force Umbra's operations have been carried out a bit too overtly, and Lady Sederis has directed that this needs to change. Accordingly, your companies will provide a list of personnel who are members of the Sisterhood and available for transfer to TF Umbra. 

**> >**These are to be _full members_ of the Sisterhood. Not candidates or initiates. For the kind of work Lady Sederis has in mind, we need people who have earned their suits. They will be integrated into TF Umbra's currently existing structure and mission set but should expect to receive special tasking from myself as necessary. Sisters with other interests (substance or asset production/acquisition, sales, and distribution) on Illium may have their operations impacted as well, so they should carefully consider their desire to be available for transfer.

 **> >**Anyone with concerns about taking orders from a human should not apply.

 **> >**Cap's taken care of us so far, Sisters. Let's make sure we take care of him too.

 **> > **Eclipse Forever.

**///MESSAGE ENDS///**


	5. Needs of the Mission

_Nos Astra, Illium, 2177_

It was late-night happy hour at the Sunspot, although the term ‘early morning’ would likely have been more appropriate given the actual time. But even in the small hours of dawn, the club was still packed with revellers from Eclipse’s various detachments on Illium, partygoers from one corporate entity or another, tourists seeking one last thrill, and even a few bemused members of the NAPD doing their best to try to loosen up.

Andre Protin was sprawled out in a circular corner booth, legs kicked up on the table, arms resting on the bench’s headrest, and head on Nalethia T’Resh’s shoulder. Nalethia, both less tired and less tipsy, was gently running her fingers through his hair as she surveyed something on a datapad, occasionally firing off questions to their fellow revellers: Alree T’Mira and Morl.

The former had a row of overturned shot glasses in front of her, and a napkin with traces of red residue on it. Occasionally her biotics would pulse without her meaning to, but nobody at the table seemed to care much when a glass was knocked over.

Morl just had a bottle of water and some in-progress crochet work. Nobody had been much surprised by that either.

“Excellent,” Nalethia said, placing the datapad back on the table and moving to take a sip of her Serrice Ice brandy. “I’m glad Wasea and Enyala were so...free with the troop transfers you requested.”

Alree T’Mira pulled another packet of red sand out of her leather jacket, looked at it contemplatively, and then decided to put it away. “Yeah, Wasea was cool about it. Enyala bitched relentlessly but hey, not even she’s stupid enough to say ‘no’ to an order coming from Lady Sederis.”

“Good to hear it.” Nalethia gently tapped Andre’s temple and motioned for him to sit up. “Well, dearest, you have the troops you requested. What’s next?”

Andre suppressed a yawn and with evident reluctance removed himself from his comfy rest. “Well, way I see it we got one lead---the broker---and two avenues of approach. Hard, or soft.”

Morl gave Andre a decidedly unimpressed look. Alree snickered. Nalethia sighed tolerantly.

“Degenerates, all of you,” said Andre, waving contemptuously like he’d seen Jona Sederis do from time to time. “What I’m saying is we got different ways of coercing the information, with more or less force necessary. Depending on their willingness to talk.”

Alree laughed. “Cap’, you really _were_ just a grunt in the Alliance, weren’t you? The sisters and I can go in and crack some skulls, sure, but soon as we’re clear we get NAPD called down on us. Lady Sederis won’t like that.”

Nalethia briefly pressed her lips to Andre’s temple in a gentle kiss. “Dearest, in clandestine operations, you need _leverage_. Something to ensure the poor soul you’re sourcing information from won’t go to the authorities and blow your cover.”

It took Andre a few seconds to fight through the haze of exhaustion and alcohol to put the two together. “...you mean like _blackmail_?”

“Or identifying something the asset values that we can target if necessary.” Morl didn’t look up from his crocheting. “Business assets, mementos, friends, family.”

Andre’s jaw dropped. “We’re not threatening civvies, Morl!”

Morl _did_ look up at that, and even on the salarian’s inscrutable features Andre could see pity written all over them.

“Threats are usually sufficient,” said Nalethia, tone gentle. “And if they prove insufficient we can doctor whatever evidence necessary---”

But Andre was shaking his head. “Nal’, don’t give me that. I talked to Wasea. I know the Sisterhood’s deal.”

Andre’s lover withdrew her touch, and suddenly Nalethia T’Resh looked very old and very, very alien. Even in the warmth of the club, Andre felt a shiver corkscrew up his spine.

“Then you know that the job will be done one way or another, Andre,” said Nalethia. “The question then becomes whether you wish to lead the operation...or be its figurehead.”

That wasn’t even a question. He was an officer, a leader of soldiers, and to ask his soldiers to do something he wouldn’t be willing to do himself ran counter to all his training and experience. But this new mission ran counter to all the _ethics_ he’d been instilled with over his military career---

\--- _just like icing the APLA high commander after they’d surrendered?_

He’d done that for the good of his soldiers. For the company. To end that damned civil war quicker and make sure that no more of 76 Company or the Anhur militias or APLA slave soldiers had to die. And if a little blackmail ensured that this broker gave information that could make sure no more Eclipse soldiers or workers in the Dantius Towers died, then that would be worth it, right?

What was that saying about the road to hell again?

“Cap’, you OK?”

Andre blinked, refocused. Alree T’Mira was giving him a concerned look, scars twisting as her hard features assumed the unfamiliar expression. “Cap’, none of the sisters would hold it against---”

“What kind of officer do you think I am, Alree?”

She frowned at that, looking to Nalethia then back to Andre. Nalethia continued to watch, like a coiled viper.

“Not sure what you mean by that, Cap’?” For once, Alree’s usually self-assured tones had assumed a bit of hesitance.

“I’m not about to ask you to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” Andre pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll do a recce tomorrow. Stakeout and check out the shop, see if we can find any leverage. Once we find something we’ll push from there. Questions?”

Morl lowered his crochet hooks. “Yeah. The shrell are we doing about the actual tower bombing? _Sir_. I get that Lady Sederis wants to know who tried to kill her but we’re kinda ignoring the client’s request right now.”

Andre sat up fully, rolled his shoulders and winced as they popped up. “Two things. One---we were waiting for the report from Chief Pek’s crew at the tower with their findings on the bomb’s components. Two, we _have_ that report, got it last night. Just need to go over the findings with a fine-tooth comb before we start putting out feelers to the cops. Wouldn’t happen to know where I can find some intel pros from a three-letter group that rhymes with ‘wait-and-see’, Morl?”

“Point taken. Sir.” Morl scowled, but began putting away his crocheting equipment. “If I’m going to have a working day tomorrow, I need to get some sleep.”

“Go on, Morl. Report to Chief Sayn tomorrow, he’ll have the findings on the bomb.”

The salarian grunted and took his leave. Next to where he’d been sitting, Alree was curiously regarding Andre. “...go on and get some sleep, Cap’. I gotta have a chat with the Major here about Sisterhood business anyway.”

Andre shook his head. “Comm her in the morning, Vanguard Sergeant. I need to have a chat with her first.”

Nalethia T’Resh inclined her head. “Go, Alree. I will speak to you tomorrow.”

The veteran commando hesitated, but Alree drew herself up to parade-ground attention to render one of her rare salutes. Andre blearily brought up his hand to return it, and Alree right-faced to make good her escape.

And then it was just the two of them, alone in the club, the music thudding around them.

“You have something to say?” said Nalethia, still looking icy as a Jovian moon.

“Yeah.” Andre took a deep breath. “When you appointed me in command of this task force, did you mean what you said to Lady Sederis and Nassana Dantius?”

“Of course.” Nalethia’s voice was all Thessian hauteur, but the glass-cutting vowels were a razor’s edge this time.

He swallowed. “Then why would you---you even _think_ that I would ask my people to do something I wouldn’t myself? To suggest in front of my senior enlisted soldiers that I would wash my hands of it and let the risk fall on them---”

“That will do, _Captain_.”

Andre shut up, swallowing a gasp, eyes widening. Across from him Nalethia was getting to her feet, idly brushing dust off the shoulder of her commando leathers. She was _tall_ , towering over him by a good couple inches even when they were seated, and right now she all but loomed over him. He got to his feet too, of course, but that didn’t help in the slightest.

“You are soft, Andre,” Nalethia said simply. “I know you still condemn yourself for executing the APLA leadership at the end of the Anhur contract. I know how impossible killing a noncombatant might seem to you, regardless of how many of your own it may save or how critical it may be to complete the mission. I had hoped that this command would show you the value of expediency, how to manage it if not to execute it yourself.”

Cold adrenaline spiked through Andre. “And?”

“I may have been wrong.” The words were stated simply, bluntly. “I gave you an exit, Captain. You were the one who showed indecision and dithering in front of your soldiers. They need a leader they can trust to handle the hard calls, even when in unfamiliar circumstances…”

She trailed off. Andre blew out a breath, trying to keep from shaking. “And?”

“...and I need a lover I can trust to do the same, Captain. I’ll see to it your effects are sent to task force headquarters. You’ll provide your report at the usual time tomorrow.”

His jaw dropped. “Nal’, wait---”

But she was already leaving.

He wanted to chase her, to beg her to not go through with this, but Andre also knew that was the wrong move entirely. So instead he picked the equally emotionally healthy option of going to the bar and requesting several shots. The asari bartender gave him a concerned look, but Andre was hardly the first sentient to literally try drowning his sorrows in her bar.

After his second shot, a vise grip suddenly took hold of his shoulder, and a familiar contralto was whispering in his ear.

“Hey. Think that’s enough, Cap’. Don’t you?”

It was Alree, of course, and even with his mind roiling and churning he still managed to muster the ghost of his usual grin. “Thought---thought you went home?”

Instead of her trademark smirk, the commando had a look of unmistakable concern on her features. “Knew that chat wasn’t gonna end well. Did she...?”

“...yeah, we aren’t...y’know…” Andre shook his head and languidly reached out for the other shot, only to find it gently nudged just out of reach by a biotic bloom. He turned and gave Alree an accusing stare.

Her lips finally quirked, drawing Andre’s bleary attention. They were full, with a noticeable cupid’s bow, and a scar slashing through the left side, jagging its way down onto her jawline. She wore no lip tattoos, unlike Nalethia, and that stark difference bought what had just happened crashing in on Andre once more.

“Dammit, Nal’...” He reached out for the shot again. And again, a biotic nudge pushed it away. Andre glared at Alree. “I paid for the shot, Sarn’t.”

She winked, grabbed the drink, and pounded it back. “And it’s damned kind of you to buy me a drink, Cap’, but right now we gotta get you home.”

He blinked. “Home.”

Alree took hold of Andre’s upper arm with one callused hand and helped him to his feet. “Yeah, Cap. Home. Y’know, where you can kick off your boots and rack out, without worrying about getting iced.”

Andre blinked. That wasn’t home. Home was an apartment in one of Nos Astra’s more uppercrust districts, with a balcony that had a soft chaise lounge perfect for cuddling with Nalethia and watching the city go by. Home was something he might not be able to experience for a while. If ever again.

Andre blinked again. This time his vision stayed black.

***

When he came to his, other senses recovered quicker than his vision did, and his surroundings smelled of a crude mix of gun oil, sweat, stale beer, and what smelled remarkably like pizza. Opening his eyes, Andre found himself on an old pullout futon, sans shirt, boots, and socks, but a pervasive feeling of soreness all over. A vidscreen mounted on the wall opposite him was playing early morning news, a turian droning on about something or other to stocks. The room was small, and it was...pretty much self-contained---there was a sliding glass door on one side leading out to a balcony, an entrance on the other side, and a tiny kitchen and bathroom near the entrance. 

Andre raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light streaming in, in between the blinds that covered the door, and winced as his shoulder popped. For a second, he could have sworn he was back in his dorm room in university, recovering from a bender. But then a blue mass on the floor leaning against the futon stirred, resolving itself into Alree T’Mira.

“Hey,” she said. “You’re finally awake.”

“Yeah.” Andre rolled over with a groan, and came up short as he saw Alree had a shotgun cradled over her legs. “...um.”

Alree looked down to the weapon, back up to Andre, and gave a rueful laugh. “You don’t sleep peaceful, Cap’. Kept thrashing around, saying they were coming and we needed to be ready. Wouldn’t sleep till I grabbed the Scimitar.”

Elysium. Had to be. He hadn’t had a nightmare about that since Anhur, when he’d had far more recent events to relive in his dreams. Hadn’t dreamed about it since Nalethia---

Andre squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again and gave Alree what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Some ops you take with you, Van---Alree.”

She reached up to squeeze his shoulder. Her non-firing hand, he noticed. “The Blitz?”

“Yeah. The Blitz.” Then Andre shot bolt upright as something hit him. “Oh _fuck_ I have to send off my report---check in with Sayn and Morl---”

Alree languidly stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down onto the futon as she moved to loom over him. “Shhh, easy Cap’. What d’you think you have an ops sergeant for? Major’s got your report and I got Chief Sayn’s techie ramblings on the datapad here. Umbra ain’t gonna fall apart cause you take a day to yourself.”

“Na---Major T’Resh---”

“...I’ve worked for the Major since I signed on with Eclipse, Cap’. She’s a proud one.” Alree’s face briefly looked chagrined. “When that pride’s slighted, she can flare bright as her biotics. Shutting her down in front of me and Morl cause you went over her head to the Sisterhood? And then trying to scrap with her afterwards?”

Andre squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t bother hiding the tears welling up. “What d’you reckon? You’ve known her longer than me.”

Alree T’Mira was quiet for a few seconds. Then she placed the shotgun down on the floor, kicked off her boots and moved to lay down next to Andre. Powerful arms moved to wrap round him from behind and pull him in close before one hand moved up to play with his hair. Alree had ditched her leather jacket, and with the short-sleeved crop-top beneath, Andre could see the muscles and scars lacing her arms, and the tattoos too.

He wanted to ask what they meant, but he settled for a few choked sobs and shifting closer.

“This OK, Andre?” came a murmur from behind him.

“...yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

Silence, for a couple seconds more. “She loves you. I promise you that. But trust is big for Nal’, and she won’t let love override her need to have that trust. Prove to her what you’re capable of doing, apologize for calling her out like that...and I think you’ll be able to patch things up.”

“And in the meantime?”

The hand on Andre’s head shifted round, trailing over his cheek, down his jawline, and closed round his neck, gently but still tight enough enough for Andre to feel it. He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as he could feel fabric shifting over rising skin. Alree’s free hand ghosted down over Andre’s side, tracing the starscape on his arm, the Eclipse logo blazing forth among that night sky.

At first he tried to stay quiet. But he had always been sensitive, touch-starved even with the affection Nalethia had lent him, and it wasn’t long before he was shivering and shuddering under Alree’s ministrations. Little whimpers and coos leaked forth as he rocked against her, eyes fluttering shut as his cock rapidly began to tent his pants.

“Take care of you. Same as I always have.” Her hand stopped at the closure to his pants. “If that’s what you want.”

Nalethia was long ago and far away and ice cold as her eyes had been. Alree was here, and warm, and holding him close and safe.

“ _Please_.”

Alree nibbled at his earlobe, eliciting another moan, and undid his pants. “Good boy.”

The second skin touched skin, Andre gasped sharply, and Alree laughed as she stroked his cock. He was shuddering harder now, beginning to all but buck against her grip, and as she briefly tightened her grip on his throat Andre let forth a moan that filled the room.

Alree T’Mira laughed and withdrew her hand. It was already coming away with precum, and she licked it off her fingers with no small amount of relish.

“Tides...you _are_ _such_ a slut, aren’t you?”

Andre whimpered an affirmative.

“Good.” Alree nuzzled at the back of his neck. “I can work with that.”

***

Some hours later, the two of them were seated outside a different bar, the cosmopolitan crush of Nos Astra’s streets flowing past them on one side and the endless urban expanse and rows of skycars yawning forth on the other. Alree was wearing decidedly low-profile clothing for her, a simple crew shirt and trousers combo, while Andre had thrown his previous night’s outfit through the wash a couple times before leaving her apartment.

He hadn’t had the heart to collect everything from task force headquarters yet.

They weren’t alone, either. Vandew Sayn, head held superciliously high and teacup in hand, was seated opposite them.

“We were fortunate,” the salarian was saying. “The report from the technical intelligence team was far more concrete in its findings than we had expected it to be. I have Morl putting together tentative plans to follow up on these leads.”

Andre took a sip of his coffee as he listened. The LOKI mech playing waiter had turned a somewhat judgemental photoreceptor on`` that order, but requesting a shot of brandy be added in had appeased the mech. “Alright, got it. What’s the game plan then?”

Sayn’s eyes narrowed. “May I direct you to paragraph twelve? _Sir_.”

He said it with the same amount of disdain that Morl did. Without Jona Sederis around, the man’s ego inflated to ludicrous levels, and Andre was going to need to find a needle at some point. Next to him, Alree reached over to give his thigh a gentle squeeze, and for a second he turned to give her a shy smile---and then the realization hit him it was the same kind he’d given Nalethia before one hellacious night, and the smile vanished quickly as it came.

And even if it hadn’t, it would’ve once he’d read the datapad. “C4?”

“Correct. _Human_ explosives.”

Andre let out a groan. “They’re widely available on the market, Chief.”

“And why would a self-respecting salarian, asari, turian, or anyone else use them when superior options are available?” Sayn _tsked_ , a gesture that did little to endear him any more to Andre. “This was a human terrorist attack on a prominent asari.”

Alree pounded back a pull of her beer and gestured dismissively with the bottle. “I ain’t buying it, Chief. Someone does a strike with ERCS weaponry doesn’t mean it was a Turian op.”

“Vanguard Sarn’t’s got the right of it, Sayn,” said Andre, resisting the urge to punch the salarian. “But that’s still a good lead. C4 isn’t something a lot of people will be selling _or_ buying, human or no. I’ll reach out to Detective Anaya at NAPD and see if she has any insight to offer.”

Sayn poured something into his teacup and swirled it round. The gesture was disturbingly human, more suited to a wealthy dowager than a veteran salarian operative. In a way, though, that probably suited the man more. “So be it. And information on our brokerage?”

“Should have the recce team’s report within the hour.” Alree waved to the LOKI mech for another beer, which it promptly brought over. “Once we get that we’ll have avenues of approach and a tentative plan cooked up by end of the day. All that’s left is for Cap’ to approve and pull the trigger.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” said Sayn, looking over the rim of his teacup at the others, eyes narrowed. “Lady Sederis will want an update.”

Andre gave the other a tight smile. “Of course, Chief. And I think there’s none better here to liaise with her than you. Let me know if she’s got any questions, yeah?”

“Of course. Yes, yes of course.” Sayn nodded, sharply, then looked over. “I think your reconnaissance team is here. If you’ll excuse me.”

Sayn unfolded his spindly form to stride off, nodding at a very familiar asari making her way over to where Andre and Alree were sitting.

“Now ain’t this cute?” said Wasea, pulling out Sayn’s vacated seat. Andre’s fellow Captain spun the chair round and settled down to lean her arms on the backrest, grinning crookedly. “I didn’t know better I’d say you two were a cute couple out on the town and not a pair of dirty war dogs planning an op.”

“Could be both,” said Alree, sliding over the newly-arrived beer to Wasea. “Cap’ here knows how to show a huntress a good time.”

Andre squinted. “Wait a minute, _you’re_ on the recce party? Since when do you take orders from Alree?”

Both asari burst out laughing. Wasea snapped her fingers and the beer bottle’s cap twisted off with a brief biotic burst. “Since I owe her a favor from our Republics days, since company command on this planet is _boring_ , and I want your clandestine ops to get started off right?”

One of these days Andre knew he was going to get a feel for when rank and hierarchy went out the window with the asari members of Eclipse, but that day was _not_ going to be today. Or likely any day soon, if he was to be honest. He was lucky enough as it was that Wasea had filled him in on the basics of the Sisterhood, and he was still coming to terms with most of _that_.

He sighed, gave Alree a long-suffering look that was immediately reciprocated with an affectionate punch to the shoulder, and looked back to Wasea. “So. What’s the word?”

Wasea shook her head and tapped at her omnitool. “Honestly? For a sketchy broker, dude’s squeaky clean, but we got his address. And the name of his partner.”

Alree squeezed Andre’s shoulder reassuringly. She’d seen how he’d stiffened at those words. “Ninety percent chance we ain’t gonna be pulling any triggers on it, Cap’. Good chance we won’t even have to break it out if he complies right off the bat with our questions.”

Andre blew out a breath, looking out at the skylanes beyond the veranda. Nalethia would have authorized it without even so much as a blink, but he wasn’t her. Never had been.

But if he didn’t authorize it, Lady Sederis’ killers could escape, could strike Eclipse again. And worse still, he’d be proving Nalethia right---that his softness and emotional vulnerability off the battlefield extended onto it, endangered his soldiers and the mission, made him a liability.

He could feel Wasea’s grim-set gaze on him. Not judging, but not the most charitable in the galaxy either. Could feel Alree’s more sympathetic look, feel her hand on his shoulder.

“...Cap’,” she said, “we got alternatives, we could---”

“No.” Andre looked back over and took a deep breath. “Do a recce of his home. I want to know the timing of his partner’s movements. Where they’re working, how they get there, if they have any preferred places to eat lunch. If this is the route we’re taking, we need it to be credible.”

A smile was slowly spreading over Wasea’s features as she stood up, something far more different than her usual hard-edged good cheer. “Sounds good. I’ll task out my sisters to take care of it, they started this, may as well handle the follow on.”

“Sorry to make this quick,” said Andre, giving her an apologetic look.

“No worries, Andre, plenty of time for Enyala and I to clean you out over cards at the Sunspot.” Wasea touched two fingers to her brow. “Later, you two.”

When she was gone, Alree T’Mira turned to Andre, regarding him with an almost reptilian watchfulness.

He blinked. “What? That was the right move wasn’t---”

“Oh yeah. It was. Don’t you worry, Cap’.” Alree took hold of his shirt, and pulled him in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make a commando outta you yet.”

* * *

** Codex Entry: The Eclipse Sisterhood **

There has always been an element of mysticism to the Republics Commandos. Martial traces of Athame Doctrine beliefs mixed with Siarist teachings to create a unique strand of faith practiced (or at least paid lip service to) among these elite combatants. When Jona Sederis left to found Eclipse, she took them with her and added her own personal touches.

What began as a small cadre of the faithful among Sederis’ peers soon developed into a shadowy sorority within the company about which little detail is known. Asari selected for the Sisterhood are fast-tracked for command and promotion, and often have an outsized voice in decision-making versus the actual rank they may hold. Members of the Sisterhood are similarly first-choice prospects for unconventional or clandestine work beyond conventional military or security operations.

Information on the Sisterhood’s recruiting process is sparse, though it is believed that one has to be referred by an inducted Sister and cannot apply directly. Another recurring theme is that the culminating event to “earn one’s armor” (regardless of any equipment that may have been issued) consists of murdering a being in cold blood---and thereby returning them to the great consciousness of Siari.

Whether due to institutional xenophobia or religious differences, there have been no recorded instances of humans or salarians being accepted into the Sisterhood. Then again, none have expressed interest, either.


	6. Deconfliction

_Nos Astra, Illium, 2177_

The Nos Astra Police Department apparently wasn’t as willing to take the word of the task force at face value. Not, at least, when it came to the bombing of a prominent Illium business figure’s holdings. Detective Anaya had smiled politely when Andre had handed her the datapad with Umbra's findings, skimmed the results, and immediately called for the technical forensics team and an aircar.

“Not that we don’t trust you,” she’d called over her shoulder as she stormed out of the precinct like a krogan on the warpath, “but we gotta verify for ourselves.”

Alree T’Mira and Andre had raced to get their own car airborne immediately afterwards: the former weaving in, out and through air traffic at a dizzying pace, and the latter frantically radioing ahead to the Dantius Towers to let them know the cops were coming.

“What do you mean NAPD wants to check the place out?” rasped Yehlen Pek, eyes blazing through the comm screen. “What the _shrell_ did you tell them, furhead?”

“Not Cap’s fault,” called Alree, “he---”

“Sergeant, _no_ .” Pek shook his head. “Fuck, we gotta make sure the workers desks are clean, make sure no one’s gonna give probable cause for any bullshit---dammit, Protin, has no one told you what _deconfliction_ is?”

Once upon a time, Andre would have wilted, but right now he was hardly in the mood for Pek’s speciesism. “Pound sand, Chief, you really think ‘hey do you know anyone in the city who sells C4’ is a logical jumping-off point for ‘surprise check of the Dantius Towers’?”

Pek’s expression didn’t so much as soften. “We’re about to fuckin’ find out. Enyala’s here. I’ll have her stall while we unfuck things. _Out_.”

The line went dead.

Alree T’Mira leaned over to ruffle Andre’s hair. “Relax, Cap’, he’s fuming but it ain’t your fault. Whole lotta risk for people here when the cops show. Even if they can paper things over with creds, that’s still money outta their accounts they don’t wanna lose, y’know?”

“I had _no_ idea this would happen,” grumbled Andre, though he couldn’t help but make a satisfied noise at Alree’s touch. “Since when the fuck is a request for information grounds to do your own bloody search?”

“Must be what passes for legal bullshit out here,” said Alree, heeling the aircar about. “...ah, shit, they beat us.”

Andre peered out the aircar window at the landing pad below. The NAPD car had indeed landed to disgorge a quartet of cops in bomb squad regalia, plus one in more relaxed working gear. Coming to approach them was a fireteam wedge of yellow-armored figures, with an all-too-familiar asari at their head, claymore shotgun cradled in her arms.

“Get us on the deck before Enyala starts a goddam firefight with the cops, Vanguard Sarn’t.”

“Yup.” Even Alree could tell this had the chance to get ugly. “Door’s open, out you go.”

True to her words, Andre jumped out even before the aircar had settled on the deck, walking over just in time to hear the tail end of an argument.

“---just saying we need to do our own checks to make sure our findings align with yours,” Detective Anaya was saying through gritted teeth. “This is still your show, but we need to keep in the loop to help you out as well.”

Enyala’s features twisted in her trademark sneer. “And _I’m_ saying Eclipse runs a tight enough ship we don’t need you, no matter what our fearless furhead might have to say---.”

“And what _I’m_ saying is for you to stand down and let ‘em through, Enyala.” Andre didn’t quite physically interpose himself between cop and commando, but it was a near run thing. “They’re here, might as well let them do their job.”

A vein pulsed in Enyala’s temple, but she nodded at the fireteam behind her. Almost reluctantly, the other Eclipse troopers parted to let the police through. Andre blew out a breath as he watched Anaya and her people vanish in the Towers. “Alright, hopefully that’s given Pek time to get things sorted. Enyala---”

When he turned around, Enyala’s fist was blurring for his face.

Andre was no longer the novice LT he’d been on Anhur, and he immediately ducked the blow. “What the _hell_ \---”

“You fucking _furhead_!” Enyala was coming in with another strike, a one-two combo Andre took squarely in his midsection. “You fucking sic the cops on your sisters and then try to fuck us off-duty too? No wonder the Major dumped your filthy---goddamn---”

Red descended over Andre’s vision, and with a snarl he swung for Enyala’s face, a right hook that connected with a _very_ satisfying thud. Enyala shut up, staggered, but Andre was already moving to follow up with a second blow. This time he nailed her jaw, and the asari commando collapsed to the floor like a pile of bricks.

Andre looked over to where her people had been departing, waiting to see if any of them wanted to have a go---but Alree T’Mira was already standing in front of them, shaking her head.

The other troopers got the hint, and made themselves scarce.

On the ground, Enyala was blearily regaining consciousness. Before she could right herself, Andre grabbed her by her armor’s collarpiece and hauled her up to her feet with a growl. “Look at me. _Look at me_.”

Enyala’s pupils dilated in unison. Good. They both focused on him, too. 

“We done with that shit?”

Enyala raised a middle finger, a rare human gesture. But then she nodded all the same.

“Sweet,” said Andre, and let go.

The other didn’t bother trying to stand up and just collapsed back down to the ground. Andre’s omnitool crackled to life with Chief Pek’s scowling visage:

“Protin, get your ass up to the penthouse conference room.”

Andre frowned. One crisis dealt with, of course another would pop up. “What’s up, Chief? Thought we gave you enough warning.”

“Lady Sederis wants to see you.”

It took all of Andre’s self-control not to utter an exasperated groan. Instead, he looked down to his outfit---the sort of practical-casual attire that Wasea had guided him towards for clandestine work, far more in line with Alree’s dress sense than Nal---

_Don’t think about that. Not now._

\---either way, not the sort of attire he would want to wear to meet the leader of Eclipse.

Not that he had much of a choice. Lady Sederis was not someone who brooked ignorance of her commands lightly, if at all. Alree, standing nearby, had a sympathetic expression on, but offered little reassurance. Andre was the officer commanding, this was his show to run.

He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Chief. Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira and I will be right along.”

“Check.” Pek paused, features growing uncharacteristically hesitant. “Heads up--the Major’s there too.”

“Got it. Thank you Chief.” Andre kept his voice level as he could, and cut the link before Pek could offer anything further.

Alree fell in next to him as they got into the elevator. It was a very quiet ride up; night was falling, and the fading rays of Illium’s sun intermixed with the neon blaze of the city beyond, filtering through the elevator’s slats. Neither of them said a word, but Alree reached over to place a comforting hand on Andre’s shoulder. This would be his first time seeing Nalethia since that disastrous night. Both parties knew he wasn’t emotionally prepared for this.

The doors hissed open, and the two stepped into the penthouse. An officious LOKI droid bustled over and wordlessly raised a hand to motion for them to follow it to the conference room. Beyond, a set of double doors slid open wordlessly to reveal a well-appointed room, decorated with odds and ends of Asari high society that doubtless conveyed an impression of wealth and taste to those with knowledge of such matters.

Andre, however, was doing his best to keep his features neutral, even as he regarded the room’s occupants.

Jona Sederis was at the head of the table, the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove. Next to her was Nassana Dantius, not even bothering to hide her contempt at a human’s presence. 

Nalethia was on Sederis’ right. And it seemed like she was having just as much trouble making eye contact as Andre was. Weird.

“Captain Protin.” Jona Sederis’ tone was curt, but surprisingly not quite as disdainful as Andre would have expected. “I have your latest from Chief Sayn, but I want to hear the sitrep in your own words, while you’re here.”

“And maybe why you decided to invite the tides-damned NAPD into my home,” sneered Nassana Dantius. 

Andre almost--- _almost_ \---braced to attention. But with none of the parties present in uniform, it would have just been bizarre. Instead he settled for clasping his hands in front of him like he’d seen some senior Alliance brass do, from time to time. “Yes, I, ah---I apologize for that, Madam Dantius. Detective Anaya insisted on investigating the blast site for herself---but I assure you that was _not_ at my invitation.”

Nassana sniffed, but left it at that.

One bout won. Andre looked back to Jona Sederis. “Lady Sederis, we’re continuing to make progress. We believe that the explosive compound used here at Tower Two was C4, a human-made substance. Given the...lack of demand for human-made weaponry, it should be a matter of record who on-world sells it. Once we’ve ID’d dealers, we then, ah, _compel_ them to let us access their sales records to see if anyone’s purchased it.”

Nalethia had overcome her earlier avoidance of Andre’s gaze, and she was watching him with an almost reptilian intensity, the kind of look she’d given him during his early days with 76 Company. “And what if it was procured offworld, Captain Protin?”

Andre tried to suppress his wince at the impersonal form of address. He didn’t succeed---but something flicked over Nalethia’s face at it, quick enough that he may have almost imagined it. “Yes N---Ma’am, we’ve considered that. The Illium Directorate isn’t keen on arms smuggling, it cuts into profits and undermines Illium’s image of being a world where everything is above-board and legal, no matter what the item in question may be---”

“The point, Captain.” Jona Sederis was drumming lacquered nails impatiently on the table.

“---yes, Lady Sederis, apologies. With that in mind, we’ll liaise with port customs units to determine the five W’s of the explosives’ arrival on-planet.”

Nalethia’s expression was still impassive, but she nodded once.

Two bouts won.

Sederis looked down to the datapad on the table in front of her. “And the pursuit of my assassins?”

“Vanguard Sergeant T’Mira has identified a pattern of movements for the credit broker’s partner. We’re going to pay him a visit, inform him of that, and source information from there.” Andre inclined his head. “...that’s all, Lady Sederis.”

Jona Sederis nodded once, sharply, and looked over to Nassana. “Madam Dantius, anything else?”

Nassana gave another contemptuous sniff. “No, nothing.”

“Major Nalethia?”

Nalethia T’Resh stared down Andre, and for the briefest of instances her lips twitched upwards in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “No. Good work, Captain Protin. Dismissed.”

Andre’s vision swam, but he managed to keep his expression under control. Barely. “...thank you, Ma’am. Lady Sederis. Madam Dantius.”

And without further ado he pivoted round to take his leave, Alree falling back in at his side. 

He managed to hold back the tears until the elevator doors had closed behind him. Alree placed her hand on his shoulder once more, and they stood there for a while, the Illium sunset and Nos Astra’s neon glow washing over them as the elevator descended.

Detective Anaya was waiting for them at the bottom, expression flinty as ever. “Bad performance review from Sederis, human?”

It took Andre a second to realize he hadn’t bothered hiding his tears. “We can go with that if it makes you feel better. Find what you wanted?”

If Anaya heard any emotional giveaways in his tone, she didn’t bother calling attention to it. “Yeah, techs definitely think it’s C4. We’ll pull a list of vendors on planet who stock that. See if they can give us sales records, too.”

Andre grunted. “Cool. Anything else for us?”

“Nope. I’d say sorry to have scared your friends here, but…” Anaya shrugged. “Always nice to see you yellowbellies scatter. Time for me to have a chat with Dantius, though. Later human.”

Alree T’Mira came to life at that. “Don’t go nuking our op, hey? Client gets pissed NAPD comes crashing in, we all lose.”

“Think we can make something work out.” Anaya shouldered her way past the two mercs into the elevator. The doors had slid shut before Andre could even work up a rejoinder.

Alree was already heading to the landing pad. “Sunspot?”

Andre sighed tolerantly. “Sarn’t, it’s not even four.”

“What is it you humans say?” The veteran tapped her chin, assuming a mock-pensive air. “It’s never too early to justify drinking.”

“...close enough, but I need a nap first. Then we can go?” It wasn’t a dodge, with the adrenaline gone and the emotions crashing in, Andre’s eyes were all but slamming shut.

Alree snickered. “You’re getting old, Cap. Sounds good.”

***

The Sunspot was the usual mix of off-duty Eclipse and a cross-section of Nos Astran professional society. With the duty day still on, despite Alree’s bravado, there were far more of the latter present, and not all of them were happy to see more Eclipse coming in. A turian at the bar shot the pair a glare as they waited for their drinks, brushing dust off his well-tailored suit’s collar with a meaningful look.

“Isn’t there anywhere to drink in this city that you mercs aren’t around?”

Andre looked away from where he’d been watching his cocktail be prepared. He’d wanted to start making his own at home, but somehow the proportions were always just that much off. “You want to stay away from Eclipse, you're in the wrong bar, man. Maybe head over to Eternity, seems to be more your speed.”

“Hah! I _used_ to drink at the bar just off the trade floor at NACE, with the other brokers.” The turian’s smile was nasty. “Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you _human_?”

Alree came to life at the turian’s threat, rolling her head and shoulders as if limbering up before a fight. She’d left her customary leather jacket in the aircar, and with nothing but a tank top underneath, her muscle and tattoos were on full display. The play of her muscles did fascinating things to the designs---Andre was doing his best not to stare. Judging by the wink that Alree dropped his way, he wasn’t succeeding. “Nah, he wouldn’t. That was _my_ call, pal.”

“You think that makes it any better?” The turian glared. “You yellowbellies wrecked my stock portfolio _and_ the best bar in Nos Astra.”

The bartender slid over their drinks---a beer for Alree, something called a ‘biotic blast’ for Andre---but neither of the two were looking away from the turian. The towering avian squared up, flexing his hands, and Andre couldn’t help but notice just how nasty the other’s talons looked. Between their height, their claws, and their general... _alien_ -ness, turians were scary sons of bitches. Andre hadn’t crossed paths with them much---Eclipse wasn’t fond of ERCS or the Blue Suns---but he still remembered the war stories he’d heard from Alliance old-timers about Shanxi.

And he still remembered the Blitz. This could get messy. Restraint was probably called for.

Alree, however, had no such compunctions, and hurled a biotic pulse that sent the turian flying into the wall.

The big alien went crashing down ass over teakettle, but just as quickly got to his feet and charged in. Alree laughed as the other struck, easily dipping and dodging the powerful blows. Andre hesitated, not wanting to get in the way, but it was clear that she couldn’t keep it up for long---and right as he thought that, the turian’s talons raked Alree’s shoulder, drawing a streak of purple blood. 

That tore it. No way this was going to stay a simple bar brawl. He grabbed his drink, took a sip, and charged in to try and brain the turian with his glass---

The turian wasn’t as off-guard as he’d seemed. The man turned and swung at Andre, slashing easily through his t-shirt, shredding the fabric and drawing blood beneath. Andre let out a yip and hurled the heavy glass---

\---and then suddenly gravity shifted round Andre, yanked him up into the air as a blue glow surrounded him. Dimly, he was aware of Alree and the turian suffering the same fate. 

“Can’t stay out of trouble, can you Andre?” drawled a familiar voice.

Andre frowned, craned his neck round, and despite his circumstances he still broke into a grin at the sight of a dark-skinned dagger of a woman, arm wreathed in a biotic corona. “Decided to go private sector after all, Emilia? War heroes don’t usually slum it in here with us pirates, after all.”

His old ally from Anhur, flanked by Enyala and Wasea, shook her head and released her biotic hold on Andre. Wasea, next to her, did the same, letting Alree descend with a modicum of grace.

Enyala hurled the turian against the wall. They didn’t get up.

“You going to try and get in some more fights, or you wanna play cards?” asked Wasea, her eyes briefly flicking down to Andre’s shredded shirt and the wounds beneath from the turian’s talons. “Or you can go change.”

Andre looked down and let out a hiss as the sting hit him. “...right now I think I could go for some medigel.”

“Do you one better,” said Enyala, with a nasty smile. She’d picked up a shot of something clear from the bar, and without the faintest hesitation tossed the contents on Andre’s wounds. “Have some traditional asari healing, furhead.”

 _“SON OF A BITCH!”_ Andre didn’t even bother trying to hide his reaction, whatever she’d tossed on him must have been grain alcohol or the asari equivalent thereof. “Just for that, I am--- _gah_ \---gonna take you to the fuckin’ cleaners.”

Enyala looked over to Emilia, looking about as unimpressed as ever. “Is that a human thing?”

“Means he’s gonna kick your ass,” said Emilia, looking more than a little amused. “Put your money where your mouth is, Andre, come on.”

The three had secured themselves a corner booth, cards already on the table and a couple of pitchers of beer in the middle. Wasea was dealing the cards, per the norm, and she policed up the hands that had been laid down when the trio had gone to break up the abortive barfight. 

Andre and Alree slid down into the booth next to each other, and Emilia’s flinty gaze flicked from one to the other before deciding not to comment. Not on that at least.

“Didn’t you learn to not go hand to talon with a turian, Andre?”

“You’re one to talk,” Andre picked up his hand and gave an exasperated groan. The cards actually weren’t that bad, but given everyone’s expectations it was useful to lean into the human ingenue stereotype. “Didn’t tell us we were working with a literal war hero.”

“Can’t blame her for that.” Wasea ante’d up and took a sip of her customary purple liquor. “All the humans in the company would probably have been falling over her. _Oooooh, an N-7, I’m getting all faint…_ ”

“Furheads and your special forces cult.” Enyala snorted. “Don’t even know what a real commando is. Wasea, no fuckin’ way your hand is that good.”

“Andre’s given me his luck,” said the other, deadpan. “Explains why I’ve been so earnest and softhearted lately.”

Enyala barked a harsh laugh and slid in her credits. “Call.”

Alree was leaning back in the booth, one arm splayed out on the headrest while she reviewed her hand. Andre felt a brief brush on his scalp, suppressed a hiss, and looked over to find his suspicions confirmed as Alree’s fingers idly entangled themselves in his hair.

Judging by her curious look, Emilia’s had been too. But she made no comment on that either as she tossed in her credits. “Raise by ten.”

“Ballsy,” said Alree, placing her cards down and digging for a packet of red sand with her free hand. The other continued to idly toy with Andre’s hair. “Call.”

“Call,” echoed Andre, utterly abandoning subtlety and leaning into Alree’s touch. “Emilia what are you doing out here anyway? You’re a long way from Alliance turf.”

“Call. Sure, but I’m pretty close to some people we don’t like.” Emilia took an emphatic sip of her beer. “And after Anhur, Jona Sederis owes me a favor.”

It was hard to imagine the terrifying leader of Eclipse owing anybody a favor, but Andre couldn’t help but admit that if it would be to anyone, it would be an Alliance commando. Around them, the club music shifted from a thudding base to what could only be described as asari folk rock, and Wasea dealt out more cards.

“Worse people to have in your corner.” Wasea gave Emilia a wink and flared her biotics to idly twirl her now-empty glass. “You ought to rack up another one, firefights ain’t the same without you, Em’.”

Emilia gave one of her enigmatic smiles. “Kind of work you do out here isn’t the kind I do, Wasea. You know that.”

“Ah, c’mon.” Alree’s free hand had shifted down to stroking at the side of Andre’s neck, finger trailing over his pulse points. It was an unfamiliarly possessive gesture, unlike Nalethia’s more languid approach. “Wasea’s just working logistical security. Y’know, with extra steps.”

“And working the logistics as well.” Andre picked up his new card and bit back a curse. “And the supply…”

“‘Zactly!” Alree’s fingers trailed back up to Andre’s undercut and pulled on it, just hard enough to elicit a hiss from him. “See? Cap’s learnin’ fast.”

Emilia’s eyes looked from Andre to Alree and back again. But once more she refrained from commenting. “Let’s hope he keeps it up. Nalethia told me about your new mission; haven’t run a proper AT op in years. Gets boring, doesn’t it?”

“It’s definitely a lot more slower-paced than Anhur was.” Andre looked at his cards, sighed, and tossed them into the middle of the table. “I fold. And it’s a lot messier too.”

Wasea dealt out another round of cards and broke into a smile as she flipped hers over. “You _did_ give me your luck, Protin! The Justicar’s Peace---Sisters, it’s been a pleasure taking your money.”

Groans around the table as the players tossed in their hands. Emilia, however, hadn’t looked away from Andre. “Yeah. Don’t expect to get it any cleaner, either.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Andre looked down to the blood on his chest and shirt. “I don’t think any of us thought that was in the cards.”

* * *

**///MESSAGE BEGINS///**

**> >** **MESSAGE FROM:** COV Vandew Sayn

 **> >MESSAGE TO: **Roe, CPT Brenna; Jaroth, LTC Akandavinsh; dl.Illium.tfumbracommand

 **> >SUBJECT: **TDY to support SMU operations on Illium

 **> >MESSAGE: **Understand multiple elements of TF Blackout (Hock det.) and 327 BN are due on Illium within 48 hours for R&R rotation. Request chain of command make personnel aware of opportunity for extra pay via temporary duty attached to TF Umbra supporting counter-terror operations in Nos Astra and elsewhere. Pay will be commensurate with rank/benefits/etc held on Bekenstein and Omega contracts. Billets for NCOs and Officers will be determined upon arrival on Illium.

 **> > **Please ensure personnel accepting TDY offered are aware of the nature of the mission. This is a clandestine operation, and the utmost professionalism will be required. Personnel recruited must have a background outside of residential security or Omega-specific operations.

 **> > **Once volunteers have been identified, please pass them along to myself, VSG Alree T'mira (TF OPS SGT) and CPT Andre Protin (TF CDR) for final approval.

 **> > **Looking forward to working with you again.

 **> > **Eclipse Forever.

**///MESSAGE ENDS///**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emilia of course is none other than @SomethingProfound's Emilia Shepard, once again back to slum it with Eclipse! My thanks to her as always for permission to include the character.


End file.
